The First Annual Hunger Games: Hope is Shattered SYOT
by MindReadingAngels
Summary: The war brought hell upon Panem. When they ended, the world was left choking but recovering...until the Hunger Games came. And all hope was shattered. T because it is the Hunger Games.
1. The Gamemaker's Daughter

This is the First Annual Hunger Games. Below is a form to submit your tribute.

Please submit by PM but I will accept those with review.

Up to 4 per person, one MUST be a blood bath.

List of taken spots on my profile.

**Name:**

**Nicknames:**

**Age:**

**Gender:**

**District:**

**Appearance:**

**Personality:**

**Family:**

**Reaping Outfit:**

**Reaped/Volunteered:**

**Reaction/Reason:**

**Goodbyes and Token:**

**Chariot Outfit Suggestions:**

**Weapon of Choice:**

**Skills:**

**Interview Outfit:**

**Angle:**

**Bloodbath - do they run, or go in?**

**Are they up for allies?**

**What about for romance?**

**How do you want them to die?**

**Any other details or requests?**

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Haven leaned over her adoptive father's shoulder, watching as he drew a sketch - looked kind of like a map. Hard to tell.

'What are you doing?' the nine year old asked curiously. When her 'father' didn't look up, she allowed a lock of her raven hair to tickle his hand. 'What are you doing, Da?'

Aura looked up from the television. She stood and marched up to her younger sister. She knew what their 'father' was doing, all right, but that didn't mean Haven had to know.

Despite the fact that she'd find out soon enough, anyways.

'Come on, Haven,' Aura chided, starting to tug her sister away. 'Leave Mr. Jaime to himself, he'll tell you when he's ready.' The twelve year old tugged her sister out of the room and into the courtyard.

'Why wouldn't you let me see?' pouted Haven, casting a glance at the shut door behind her. 'What if it had something to do with Faith?'

Aura winced. When Mr. Jaime - although Haven didn't hesitate at calling him Da - had taken them from District Eleven, he'd left their oldest sister, Faith, behind. Faith was sixteen, and what Mr. Jaime was designing could kill their sister. 'Why would he be drawing a map to bring Faith here?'

'I dunno, maybe because Da - '

'Da is dead!" Aura said harshly. 'Da is dead, and so's Ma!'

The look of utter incomprehension that passed over Haven's face was utterly heartbreaking. 'But..._he _is our Da now. Da back home didn't want us anymore, so he gave us to Mr. Jaime - our new Da. But he wanted Faith. So he kept her.'

Aura didn't even know if Faith was still alive or not.

_A few months ago, she and Haven had been huddled in a gutter, waiting for Faith to come get them. In Aura's mind's eye, she could still see Ma and Da getting gunned down by the Peacekeepers. Haven had not been there - she thought Ma and Da were still alive. Then the door had opened,, and the sisters had looked up hopefully, sure it was Faith._

_It was not Faith._

_Instead, a strange man peered down at them, sympathy lighting his gaze. Out of instinct, Aura pushed Haven behind her. _

_'What are you kids doing down there?' the man asked kindly. 'The gutter's no place for two young girls to hang about.'_

_Haven said nothing, and Aura felt a burst of pride towards her younger sister._

_'Are you hungry?' the man pulled some bread out of his pocket. Even Aura couldn't hide the flash of, indeed, hunger in her eyes._

_The girls climbed out and they huddled there as the man gave them each a big piece of bread with butter. All manners were forgotten as they tore into it with their teeth._

_'What are your names?' the man pressed._

_'Haven," Haven answered. 'And she's Aura.'_

_Aura looked away. She knew that, for Eleven, she and her sister had very unusual names._

After that, the man took them away to live with him in the Capitol. Haven begged him to take their biggest sister, Faith, but he said later. Now the most important thing was them, he'd said. He'd told Haven and Aura their mother and father no longer wanted them. Aura knew it was a lie, for she'd seen her parents killed, but Haven lapped it all up.

Aura didn't like Mr. Jaime - after all, he was a Capitolite - but it wasn't like they were better off back home.

Especially when he announced the Hunger Games.

As it went, the President came up with the idea, and he asked Mr. Jaime to design the arena.

Haven soon come to calling Mr. Jaime Da.

Likely story.

That night, when Haven was in bed, Aura wandered over to her Da. 'You know I don't like you.'

'Yes, Aura. I know that.'

'You know our sister, Faith?' Aura asked coldly.

'Yes, yes, what about her?'

'She's sixteen. Old enough to be in your dumb Game. And we'll get her out if she's picked. And we'll run away. And you won't have us. I don't even know why you want us. Me and Haven, that is.'

'Your sister's name is not in the bowl.' said Mr. Jaime tiredly. 'Now, Aura, get yourself to bed.'

'I still hate you.' Aura retorted, ice in her voice. She tossed back her dark hair and went into her bedroom. She'd never had one of those before. Back home, she'd had to share with Faith and Haven.

She slammed the door.


	2. Chapter 2 The Truth

**Okay. So, currently there are six spots left. Wow! I'm so happy they filled so quickly. I can't wait to get on with writing the Reapings, but I need all my tributes first.**

**So I decided to submit a little more from Aura and Haven! **

**Yes, their chapters are short, but once I collect the tributes you will be scrolling down the chapters with your mouth partially open, thinking to yourself: 'When does this chapter end?' Well, not really. But they'll be pretty long.**

**So, with no further ado, chapter 2! yes. That rhymed. Am I not a genius?**

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**Chapter Two: The Truth**

Haven's legs stretched out, her toes pointed, as she swung them in time with the movement of her swing. She stood out here in the Capitol playscape: she, like Aura, wore no make up, and wore simple, casual clothes - a short denim skirt and a plain white T shirt. Her overall appearance - the usual dark skin of District Eleven, the big brown eyes. The dark, dark hair - now tied into two braids.

'Come on, Haven,' called Aura. 'Come on, we need to get home.'

'Oh!' cried Haven. 'Oh, yes! You're right - Da said we needed to be home by six o'clock!'

'That's right,' replied Aura, closing her book and tucking it into her purse. 'You wouldn't want to displease Mr. Jaime.'

Haven's brow scrunched in concentration as she leaped with nine year old grace off the swing and onto the sandy floor below. The swing rocked around wildly, madly, from side to side, as if confused by its sudden lack of a load on it.

'I heard you talking to Da last night.' Haven reported. 'What Game? Why would it put Faith in danger?'

Aura sighed, taking her sister's hand and they began to walk out of the park and down the street. 'You...you'll find out soon enough.'

Haven scowled. 'Yeah, Aura, because that's just so fair. Faith is my sister, too! And what is the Game?'

'Something bad that Mr. Jaime is doing,' Aura said at once. She figured there was no reason not to tell her sister now - tomorrow they would watch the Reapings of all twelve districts and she would hope to God that nobody she knew from back home got picked. And Haven could always read a newspaper. Actually, that was very likely. Haven, her little journalist - always in pursuit of knowledge, of the truth.

'What bad thing? Is someone gonna get hurt?' Haven's eyes were wide.

'Yeah, Haven - people are going to get hurt and people are going to die.'

Haven's eyes stretched even wider. 'And Da has something to do with it? Has Da gone bad?'

'No. Mr. Jaime was always bad. But yes, he's behind it. Him and President Snow.' **A/N: This President Snow is not the same one from the books. It is his son.**

'How is it a game if people are going to die?' whispered Haven. 'I mean...I love Da! Just because you don't doesn't mean I have to.'

_We have to stay with him_, Aura thought bitterly. _Because if we don't - we'll die! If we leave, what if he hurts Faith - if she is still alive, that is?_


	3. D1 Reaping - We Are One and The Same

**FINALLY I get on with the Reapings. I'm...so...happy...*squeal* So here are the oh - so - anticipated Reapings. I'm excited, personally. And kudos to all those who submitted. Thanks a bunch, and may the odds be ever in your favor, from Sira. **

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_**A/N: I listened to 'She's Leaving Home' and 'While My Guitar Gently Weeps' by the Beatles while writing this. I'm a Beatles nut, their music is beautiful and so much better than all of the stuff today. I mean Justin Beiber? Rebecca Black? Kid Cudi? I'm sorry, but their music is crap. Yes, I know Kid Cudi has a song for the Hunger Games. That does not mean it's a good song.  
**_

_**District One Reapings**_

**Susan "Sue" Maryfield, District 1 - The Sister**

**When **I awoke, my sister, Dryad, was huddled on the bed - looking scared, vulnerable. She looked up at me with wide, silvery eyes. I hurried across the room and put my arms around her. She let out a weak sniffle and leaned against my shoulder.

'Sue...I'm scared for you.'

I pressed my lips against the crown of her head. 'Yeah, so am I. But, oi, there's still hope I won't be picked. The odds are entirely in my favor.'

'Yeah. I know that,' she mumbled, her voice muffled by my hug. 'But still.'

I squeezed her hand. She was killing me...she really was. I would do anything for Dryad, my sweet ten - year - old sister. Especially since the Dark Days took our parents out in a bombing, and our older brother, Jonas, who was nineteen years old, left us for work in the Capitol.

Yes. The Capitol.

He sent us money, once in a while. Was he not generous?

'Promise me that, if you get picked, you'll try real hard to win for me?' Dryad asked weakly.

I tucked a lock of her auburn coloured hair behind her ear. 'Of course I do. I'll try hard to win. But relax, sweetie. I haven't even been picked yet. My name is in there...four times.'

'Four is more than zero,' Dryad replied darkly.

'Well, aren't you smart?' I answered, and she giggled.

'On a more serious note - 'I continued. ' Yes, my name is in there and there's a chance I will be picked. But if I am, yeah, I'll try to win. And you know what I can do with a spear.'

The first thing the orphanage of our District did when they announced the Hunger Games back in the blasted Capitol was sign us all up at the brand new academy for volunteers. I discovered a natural talent with the spear, and Dryad with a crossbow.

Dryad nodded eagerly. 'Oh, yeah, anyone who comes near _ you_ in the Games when you've got a spear is so totally dead meat.'

'That's right.'

**Glint Jewels, District 1 - The Reluctant**

**They** say I have the heart of a winner at the volunteer academy. They say I could win in those new Games, no problem. They say that I have come to be lethal with a knife, which I suppose I have. That I'm strong, like a bull. That I am merciless. I was not sure that's supposed to be a compliment or not.

I guessed it depended on when they say it.

I kept my dagger tucked into the my pocket. It was small and easily concealed.

They think I'm going to volunteer.

They're wrong. I'm not. If I was picked, I was picked, but there was no way in hell that I was going into those Games voluntarily. Sure, I could win, but I could also _not_. Win, that was. And I could not let my father lose me, before his very eyes, not like he did Mum.

I walked down the corridor and leaned against the door frame to his bedroom. 'I'm ready.'

He looked up from where he was seated, moping, in the rocking chair. My mother used to hold me and sing me a lullaby in that rocking chair, when I was a baby. The classic District One lullaby:

_Little boy, little girl, don't you cry now_

_'Cause there are diamonds in your hair_

_And there are rubies everywhere._

Or so I was told.

'Oh. Oh. Okay. Well, you go on, then. I...I'm not ready,' he mumbled.

'So, I'll see you after the Reaping?'

'Yes, yes, you'll see me after the Reaping.'

'Fine.' I turned on my heels and marched out the front door.

At the square, cameras filmed our every move and I wondered if anyone in the Capitol was looking at me now and thinking: 'Now, that boy is going to volunteer, no doubt about it.'

I signed into the 16 year old section and watched as the big clock hand struck two and the mayor stood, got to his feet.

He read the Treaty of the Treason and then 'handed the reins over to our lovely escort, Miranda Gem!'

Miranda Gem was a young woman in her mind twenties. She had dark blond curls that spilled recklessly around her shoulders and her face was covered in make up. She wore a short, sexy, golden dress similar to that of many girls around me. A girl next to me looked enviously at her blond curls. This girl had blond hair, too, but hers lay flat and limp.

'Hey, District One! Aren't you so, so excited? Let the first annual Hunger Games Reaping of the luxury district begin!'

**Susan "Sue" Maryfield, District 1 - The Sister**

**Out** of instinct, I glanced anxiously at the roped off area for people who were out of the age range for the Hunger Games, looking for Dryad, of course. I couldn't find her.

'Ladies first!' chirped Miranda, as if announcing a facial care product. She took a slip from one bowl and held it up high, looking triumphant in a sick and twisted way. And she was a sick and twisted person.

'Susan Maryfield!' she cried, and my world crumbled.

**Glint Jewels, District 1 - The Reluctant**

**Somebody** screamed, off in the little kid slash old person sector. 'No - Sue!'

A girl in the fifteen year old section walked slowly forth, full out poker face on. She wore a long salmon pink dress. She was tall for fifteen, but what made her stand out in the crowd was her almond shaped brilliant green eyes and her long red hair glinted in gold.

She spun towards the roped off sector. 'Dryad!' she cried.

A girl, maybe ten or eleven, started to cry. 'Sue! You said...you said...'

'I'll win, Dryad!' the girl - Sue- cried. Then she looked away and ran on stage.

Miranda smiled lightly and shrugged. 'Oh, that's, like, so sweet...with your sister and stuff. But we need to pick a boy tribute now! No, like, seriously. Now.'

She reached into the bowl and I found myself crossing my fingers.

'Glint Jewels!' Miranda cried.

Crap.

I made my way forward, and tried to ignore the horrified, pained cry of my dad.

'No! You can't take Glint! You can't take him!'

Sue watched me curiously, and sadly, her red curls falling to one side of her face. I averted my gaze as i took my place and averted my gaze as Miranda forced us to shake hands.

**Susan "Sue" Maryfield, District 1 - The Sister**

**After** the Reaping, we were escorted to separate rooms in the Justice Building. To say good bye to our families and what not. I was surprised - I didn't think I'd get to see Dryad until after the Games. Assuming I won.

While I waited for my sister, I thought about my District partner, Glint. I thought about how his dad yelled his name in horror, and how the stocky boy with curly black hair came forth.

If he turned out to be an okay guy, maybe I wanted him to win I was to die.

No. No - I wouldn't die. Couldn't. I had to take care of Dryad, speaking of which...

She came running, tears streaming down her cheeks. Threw herself into my arms.

'You said...' she gasped. 'That...'

'I said I _could_ get picked. I said there was a teeny, tiny possibility.' I answered, patting her hair and shutting the door.

Dryad slowly pulled herself from my embrace and looked around the room. 'Nice place. It reminds me of the living room back home, you know?'

It did - the lush red carpeting and sofas and the way the sunlight streamed in through the windows. It was like the living room before it got bombed out and we had to move to the orphanage when Jonas left us.

'What are you going to take into the Games?' asked Dryad. 'As the token.'

'Um...' I bit my lip. 'The earrings Mom gave me for my twelfth birthday.' I fingered them. They were small and red, made of rubies, carved into the shape of a flower.

'I thought you might take that,' agreed Dryad.

**Glint Jewels, District 1 - The Reluctant**

**Nobody **came. Not even Dad. I thought he would. Instead, I spent an hour sitting in aching silence.

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**There you have it, a Reaping chapter for District One. Please review, even if these are not your tributes.  
**

**Thanks a million,**

**Sira.**


	4. D2 Reaping - The Winner and the Loser

_**District Two Reaping: The Winner and the Loser**_

**Molly Grasses, 13, District 2 – The Determined**

**I** woke with hair tickling my nose – long dark strands that I batted away as I blinked open my eyes. As my eyes adjusted to the light, I registered my sister, Leah's, face looming over me.

"Molly? Molly, wake up. Wake up for the Reaping."

I groaned and levered myself into a sitting position. "Ugh. Do I have to?"

"Of course you do," said Leah, hands on hips as she stood straighter. "I've already picked a dress for you. I used to wear it to school dances all the time when I was your age. It's pretty; you'll like it." She smiled. "I'll let you get ready, do your hair and what not. You can call me if you need help with the zipper on the back." Another smile as she paused, then ruffled my hair. She left the room, casting another smiling glance over her shoulder.

I glanced at the chair where she would have left the dress. Of course, I didn't care about pretty, I cared about practical, so when I saw it, I felt like I was going to retch. All pouffy and elegant, the dress was of an ivory color. Little plastic gems lined the hem and the turleneck collar and the cuffs of the long sleeves. I climbed out of bed and held it out at arm's length, examining it skeptically. No way on earth was I going to wear that thing.

I grabbed my pocket knife where it was hidden, taped behind my dresser, and roughly cut off the skirt. I threw on the top and clambered into some jeans that weren't covered in holes and blade slices, then tied my hair back and marched purposefully out the door.

There were pancakes, and there was sparkling water, and I took a seat at the dining room table. Leah came in with a pot of coffee, took one look at my massacre of her dress, and her nose wrinkled. "What did you _do_, Molly?"

I lifted a shoulder indifferently. "I liked it this way."

"Oh, for Christ's sake," muttered Leah.

**Hugh Ender, 16, District 2 – The Suicidal**

**The** gong sounded just as I pressed the blade against my wrist. My fingers slowly lessened their grip, and the knife clattered to the floor. I stood there, and a small smile lit my face. I didn't have to go, not this way. I didn't have to die just yet.

Why kill myself now when I could die in the Hunger Games?

I knew that, in a way, I was just procrastinating. I'd tried many a time to take my own life before. Every time, I couldn't bring myself to do it. First, I tried to hang myself, but after several seconds, I couldn't take it and I reached up and undid the knots. I nearly threw myself off the roof of the Justice Building, but at the edge, I stumbled backwards, ran down the stairs, and hid under my bed. Like a child.

I'd recently resorted to slitting my wrists, but every time, I dropped the knife. I just couldn't freaking do it.

I peered out the window. People were gathering now, going to the square. I left fast, not wanting to dwell back home any longer, when her laughs could have been filling the room instead.

**Molly Grasses, 13, District 2 – The Determined**

**"Welcome,** District Two! Welcome to the Reaping of the very first Hunger Games. And of course, there will be countless more of these surely exciting Games to come every year!" An escort named, as she said, Monique Ashes, waved her hands in the air excitedly. "Is this not exciting?"

She paused and frowned, twirling brown hair around her finger. Then she put that smile right back on and she squeezed her expertly manicured hands together. "Well, of course, we have to focus on the present, not the wonderful Games to come. Let's focus on _this year's tributes_ of the Masonry district, staring with the ladies!"

She tapped across the stage and reached her hand into a bowl. She pulled out a slip and held it up for all of us to see, then unfolded it.

"Molly Grasses!" she cried aloud, and my jaw dropped.

**Hugh Ender, 16, District 2 – The Suicidal**

**A** girl from the thirteen year old section came forwards. She wore a shirt that looked like it had once belonged to a dress, and the bottom sported strings of thread trailing down her hips, and dark indigo jeans. Her dark hair was done in two braids, but the girl – Molly – showed no fear, just surprise. No fear registered in her brown eyes, just shock.

She mounted the stage and Monique gave her hand a little squeeze as she did so. She introduced Molly to the world, then she moved on to the boys, and I was standing there, hoping to God I'd be able to sum up the courage to volunteer.

Luckily, I could, just after she called a name I paid no attention to. I nearly ran onto the stage and waved at the District. "I volunteer," I gasped into the mic.

Molly watched me carefully, sizing me up, as if thinking of how much of a threat I could be.

"How _tantalizing_!" Monique cried, and I was pretty sure that was a misuse of the word. "How tantalizing! Well, dear boy, what is your name?"

"Hugh Ender," I muttered, not meeting her eyes. "I…I'm sixteen."

Monique wriggled a bit in her long blue dress. "Oh! Well, then. Our tributes of District Two! Molly Grasses and Hugh Ender…come on, shake hands, you two."

We did, and Molly met my gaze with fiery determination for someone so young. It reminded me of Azuela, and I bit my lip, trying not to cry at the thought of her.


	5. D3 Reaping - Little Dear, Cost us Dear

_**District Three Reaping: Little Dear, Cost us Dear**_

_**WARNING: Contains coarse language. **_

**Nicole Ratchet, 16, District 3 – The Sarcastic**

**Blond** hair with an electric blue streak stood out amongst a family of gingers, and one of them wasn't even really ours.

I always stood out at school. I never liked electronics like the children in my class, and we came from a _district_ of electronics. My sharp tongue made teachers cringe and other kids goggle at me. And I stand out at home because I look nothing like any of my family. But I'm a blood relative.

Suzy was not. We adopted her during the Dark Days. In one of the factories, people lined up the bodies of the dead in a row, sort of closed their eyes like they were sleeping. When we were leaving my twin sister, Peony, there, we found a little girl.

She wasn't even dead. She was huddled there, emaciated, clutching her dead mother's hand, looking up at us with wide eyes. She'd been left there to die. Of course we took her in – how could we not? It was a big change. Suzy was much younger than my youngest sibling, Adina, who was thirteen. Suzy was five.

She proved to be impossible not to love. Now, she bounced on my bed to wake me up, her red curls bouncing around her sweet face. 'Come on, Nikki, get out of bed!'

'I will. Hold on.' I replied tiredly. 'You'd think I could get a few moment's rest on Reaping day.'

'It's already noon,' Suzy said crisply. 'Your mum says to get up.'

'Tell my mum to get up out of her own bed and stop moping about Peony.' I answered, and instantly felt guilty. Peony was my twin sister, and I'd loved her and she'd loved me, but when she was alive we were always rowing about one thing or another. And why was I taking out my anger on little Suzy? She didn't even know Peony.

'Okay,' said Suzy, clambering off my bed and dashing out into the hall. 'Can you make my bed?'

'No! Suzy! I didn't mean…don't…don't tell my mum that! Go put on your dress instead! And yes, I'll make your bed.' I called. I could not let Mum know I said that or she'd drill into me about mourning my sister.

I couldn't feel worse about acting like that. Peony had been my twin, after all.

At breakfast, we sat in a circle around the table, munching on the eggs that Rebecca made. There were eight of us. Mum. Me. Suzy. Adina. Petra, who was fourteen. Sandra, who was seventeen. Jennifer, aged eighteen. And Rebecca. She was twenty one.

It was a silent affair, and nobody wanted to talk much. Who would, on a day like this? After all, five of our names were in the Reaping bowl. Would any of us be chosen? That was the dreadful question.

**Enlai Li, 18, District 3 – The Orphan**

**Her **coughing woke me up. Sleepily, I rubbed my eyes and glanced over at her. Huddled in the nest of blankets, she leaned over the edge of the bed, her tiny body shaking and hacking. I stood up, but she rolled over and fell back into a deep sleep.

I glanced at the ticking clock on the wall. It was time for me to get up, anyway. Because it was the day of the Reaping, I didn't have to work, but I wanted to avoid the queue at the bakery. I put on my casual clothes and boots and left the room. Before I did so, I checked on Mai - Yee. She seemed okay now, although we knew, of course, she was _not_ okay. Her tragic story spread fast, like wildfire, through the district. Soon, everyone knew about her, and about how little she had left in this life.

Ling was sprawled out on the couch, snoring. In the crappy apartment complex we managed to rent, there was only one bedroom for the three of us. I shared it with Mai - Yee. Ling, being the oldest, insisted on taking the sofa.

I bought three warm gingerbread men, with gumdrop buttons and chocolate chip eyes. I knew Mai - Yee would love something like that. I was comforting her, about the Reaping and what not, even though I was the only one the right age to go into those Games. Mai - Yee was only six, and Ling was twenty - three. I, at eighteen, became the real 'family man.'

'Oi! Enlai!'

I groaned. I wasn't interested in talking to Wolfgang, not today. But he had spotted me and was running up to me. I sighed and turned to face him.

'Hello, Wolfgang.'

'Hey...Enlai! That for your sisters?' He nodded at the paper bag I was clutching. What's in there? Bread? That fancy raisin bread your little sis likes?'

I shook my head. 'Gingerbread men. My "little sis" loves it. Call her Mai - Yee. Call her by her name!'

'You're not supposed to say the names of the dead,' Wolfgang answered darkly.

My hands clenched into fists. 'She's not dead.'

'She will be soon.' Wolfgang said calmly. He shook his head at me sadly. 'Sorry, Enlai. It's the harsh truth, and you gotta learn to face it.'

I wanted to punch him, I did with all my heart. But why bother? What would it gain? It didn't change the truth, that Mai - Yee was dying. It changed nothing. So I spun around and stalked home.

* * *

'What is that? What is that?' Mai - Yee asked, bouncing a little bit on the pathetic sofa as I opened the door. Ling was struggling to get her to sit still so she could brush her hair.

'You'll see,' I replied with a smile, putting the bad down. I bent to take off my shoes.

Quick as a bullet (the disease didn't affect her undying energy!) Mai - Yee leaped off the sofa and ripped the bag open. Her young face lit up. 'Gingerbread men! Is this for us?'

'Of course it is,' I replied, planting a kiss on her head. 'Now let Ling comb your hair so we can all sit down and eat them.'

**Nicole Ratchet, 16, District 3 - The Sarcastic**

**At **the Reaping, the mayor read the Treaty of the Treason loud and proud, like it was a good thing that kids were being killed off in brutal ways. That, worse, they were being forced to kill each other.

Then a lady called our 'escort', Renee Dubois, marched on stage. She had blond hair with bright pink streaks forming her initials on the back of her short bob. She eyed us with shining brown eyes emphasized with bright pink eyeliner. She wore bright pink pumps and a long, pink dress, complete with bows and frills typical of the nineteenth century.

'Why, hello, peeps!' she chirped. 'Wow! You all look so...electric today! Ha, ha! Get it? That was a joke. Because you guys come from the District of _electronics_! Well, welcome to the Reaping! May the odds be ever in your favor! Girls before boys!' Still giggling pathetically at her own terrible joke, Renee skipped across the stage and selected a name from the female bowl.

I thought about how many of my sisters' names were in that bowl, not to mention my own, and held my breath. I crossed my fingers and looked over my shoulder, searching for little Adina.

Renee read the name aloud. And it wasn't Adina.

It was me.

**Enlai Li, 18, District 3 – The Orphan**

**'What **the hell? I mean, seriously? Shit.' A girl from the sixteen year old section - presumably Nicole - began to swear as she stalked forth. She wore a simple, dark green dress with a thin plaid shawl around her shoulders. She had blond hair, tied back into a ponytail, highlighted by an electric blue streak. 'This is the shits. This really is. I mean, what the fuck?' I heard her mutter as she passed my section. As a camera man turned his lenses towards her, she spun on him and flipped the camera the bird.

A stunned, hushed, silence fell over us as Nicole made her way on stage. She leaned against the wooden podium, crossed her arms over her chest, and glared at us.

'That's not very ladylike!' chided Renee the Escort.

'Screw you,' Nicole retorted bluntly.

Renee looked insulted as she took the mic 'Well...boys next.' She grabbed a slip of paper from the male bowl, no longer bright and chipper.

'Enlai Li!' she called.

Me? I put on the most stoic expression I can muster as I take the stage. It's me...it's clearly because of my tesserae, it's because of all that tesserae I took. Could good things arise from this opportunity? If I win, I can get medicine for Mai - Yee. She could survive. She could.


	6. D4 Reaping - Come Together

_**District Four Reaping: Come Together**_

**Autumn Faraday, 16, District 4 - The Traitor**

**'I **wonder if Dad will watch the Reaping for District Four?' said Beau as he cocked his head to one side, combing his hair. 'Or if he'll only watch the one for his District?'

'He _has_ to go to the one in Six,' Cleo explained. 'But yeah, he'll probably watch the one for here. For the three of us.'

'He'll watch all the Reapings,' I said primly, flipping the French toast in the frying pan. 'Because he has to. It's the law. You know that. He knows that. Everyone knows that.'

'Whatever happens, whether he watches them or not,' said my mother, sweeping in, 'you have to get ready for the Reaping. Cleo? A lady wears a dress to a special occasion. Go change.'

'I don't even _have_ any dresses,' grumbled Cleo. 'I'll have to borrow one of Autumn's.'

'Then do that. Autumn, how's that breakfast coming along? Oh! French toast! How lovely!'

'It's almost ready, Mother,' I said earnestly. 'And Cleo can use my blue dress. It'd look nice on her.'

Cleo scowled, but spun around and made her way up the stairs to put on a dress.

'You look upset,' Beau piped up, shooting a glance at me as he walked towards the fridge and pulled out a carton of apple juice.

'It's Reaping day,' I said simply, but of course there was much more to it than that. Yesterday, I'd been dumped ... twice. Twice! First in the morning, by my old boyfriend Orion. Then, last night, my slightly more recent one left me. His name was Alexander.

They both discovered I was cheating on them, and let's just say things didn't really go very swimmingly. That's a typical District Four pun - get it?

Cleo stomped down the stairs once again in one of my midnight blue evening gowns and high heels. 'I hate these,' she muttered, indicating the shoes. She pulled a chair back and sat down heavily in her chair. 'Those better be good to make up for it.'

**Nigel Crawley, 18, District 4 - The Ally**

**'_Ain't _**_you the one for me?' _I sang as I strummed my fingers on the guitar. '_Ain't it true that you and me are meant to be?_'

Not many people were out, it was the very first Reaping day, but a gaggle of small children stopped to watch. When my boyfriend, Kipton, stood up, he reached into a bowl and pulled out some brightly colored lollipops, handing one out to each of the kids. A small girl with long dark hair put a little coin in his hand.

'No, that's okay,' Kipton sad, trying to give it back to her.

The little girl shook her head. 'No. It's for you.'

'Come on, Sophie!' her friends called. 'Let's go for a swim!'

The girl, Sophie, smiled at each of us, and took off after her friends.

'_We could be together...forever, you and me, cos we are meant to be._' I sang.

Kipton and I went through a few other songs, but nobody came, so we packed up and headed to his house. Well, our house really, because I lived with him now since my parents died in a house fire.

'It really sucks that you're in there, man,' said Kipton.

'I know,' I said. 'But at least I'll be free next year. What are you going to wear?'

'I don't know. You?'

I shrugged. 'I don't know. Maybe that beige shirt of mine.'

Kipton shrugged. 'Sure thing. Maybe I'll wear my tuxedo.'

'You don't have a tuxedo,' I reminded him.

Kipton laughed. 'You're right.' He kissed me a little on the neck, and I ran my fingers through his hair. Then, just as quickly, we split apart. 'Maybe we can go out for ice cream at that old place you liked tonight,' said Kipton.

'Okay,' I said, but something dropped inside of me, a million-pound weight. We went to get dressed in our respective rooms to get dressed.

I didn't really want to go for ice cream at 'the old place.' Because she would be there. She went about every night when we were talking! And I didn't want to have her look at me, sneer, and turn back to her latest boyfriend.

I remembered how many times we went together, hand in hand. We would kiss there, and her breath would always taste like her ice cream. Lemon sherbert, her favorite flavor, and I would taste like strawberry, which was mine.

I loved Kipton, but sometimes I relished that feeling of kissing her, and of running my fingers through _her_ hair, and of tasting that lemon - y breath.

**Autumn Faraday, 16, District 4 - The Traitor**

**'This **sucks,' I complained as Cleo and I signed in to our age sections.

On the stage, an escort lady came on stage. Tall, she had light chestnut colored hair and wore a swooping kind of black dress and cloak.

'Welcome to the very first Reaping for District Four of the very first annual Hunger Games. I am Callista,' she said into the mic. She blinked once, twice, reached into her cloak - dress, and highlighted her eyes with heavy black eye liner. Then she put it back. 'Your fates await you. Who will be chosen? Will there be volunteers? Who will fall and who will live?'

She sighed, almost contentedly and reached into the first bowl.

'Autumn Faraday, face your future!' she cried.

**Nigel Crawley, 18, District 4 - The Ally**

**Her?**Autumn? I stood there in stunned silence as she made her way forth from the 16 year old section. Long brown hair, she wore a pink ankle length dress and white flats.

She stood still once she reaches her place next to the podium. Her gaze level.

'And now,' Callista went on, 'to the boys.'

She chose a name. She read it aloud.

And my heart stopped.

I was going into the Games with Autumn Faraday. I was going into the Games with my ex - girlfriend. It was this that really registered, not the part about going into the Games.

I walked forth, fists clenched, head hung low by some more heavy weight.

Autumn looked surprised too, but she offered me the faintest of nods. An acknowledgment? Some sort of peace offering?

'I will now read your palms,' Callisa announced, and she took Autumn's hand. Autumn remained fully calm as Callista fingered it, then let go. She breathed something into her ear.

Alarm flashed over Autumn's face.

Then she took mine, holding my hand, peering at it. She let it fall, she leaned forwards, and whispered into my ear.

'You will have a victory, my boy...of sorts.'

**_In The Capitol_**

**'She **has to go,' Da said at once. Haven glanced at him as the District Three seal flashed on the screen.

'In one hour, we will bring you District Four!' said the announcer.

'The girl? Nicole?' Haven wanted to know.

'Yes. The girl. Nicole.' Da waved his hands in the air and scribbled her name down. 'I'll have something exciting, love.'

'My old Da called me "love",' Haven said softly.

She didn't know what to think. She heard about the Hunger Games and everything, she understood it now, and she didn't like it. But...what would she do if she and Aura left Da? They didn't know their way home, and their old Da and Ma didn't want them. As for Faith, Haven had no idea.

'That's fine.' Da told her. 'Now I'm going to call you "love".'

Haven didn't want that, but she said nothing.

'Why does she have to go?' asked Aura. She was sitting at the mahogany table, doing her homework and eating pretzels.

'She insulted our escort!' Da huffed.

'So?' Aura stood up and stood over him on the sofa. She had that look in her eyes that she always did when she was cross.

'So she can't live! She's a threat! She'll be taken out on Day One.'

'She'll make things interesting,' Aura pressed. 'You should take her out later. Nicole will be a great show.'

'I liked Nicole,' piped Haven. 'She seems really nice.'

Da paused, considering. 'We'll see.'


	7. D5 Reaping: Allies or What?

**A/N: I would like to apologize for not doing goodbyes previously, and for the slow updates. My exams are over, so updates should be faster and there should be goodbyes from now on! **

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_**District**** Five Reaping: Allies or What?**_

**Annabelle "Annie" or "Belle" Green, 12, District 5 - The Innocent**

**On **the wall of my bedroom hung a photograph. It didn't have a frame, but it was pinned on there. It was the only nice thing to look at, really. The picture showed two girls, one seven, one a little older, maybe eleven or twelve. No older than thirteen for sure. Both girls smiled in it, with their blue eyes shining and their arms around each other.

Even though it was taken five years ago, it was the last picture I had of Elizabeth. My older sister was killed by the Capitol in the Dark Days, and this was all I had left of her.

I half - smiled at it as I combed my hair. I liked to think she could see me through the eyes pf her twelve year old self. Elizabeth was sixteen when she died. It was funny to think that I was the same age as her in that thing. I put on some ratty old flats and dashed out the door.

'Annie, don't you want breakfast?' my mother called after me.

'No!' I yelled back. 'No, I'm all good!'

I ran down the street and stopped in front of a small house, but was still a little bigger than mine. I raised a fist to knock on the door, but it flew open before I could. There stood Ryan, my best friend.

'Hi, Belle,' he said. He hopped off to stoop and shut the door behind him. 'Ready?'

'You bet!' I said with a grin. 'Race you!'

'I'll win.'

'No, you won't. Ready, set, go!'

We took off, down the street and through the market. Streets were quiet. Nobody wanted to go out today. After all, it was Reaping Day. We stopped in front of the old warehouse. 'I win!' I crowed.

Ryan grumbled, but lightly, and helped me pull the old boards aside. This old thing was like our little factory, where we made little things out of metal.

Well, Ryan, mostly, and I watched. But still.

He gathered little bits of metal and started to weave them together. I didn't ask him what he was making. He'd show me when he was done, like always.

**Matthew "Matt" Downe, 14_, _District 5 - The Optimist**

**'Get **out of my room, Samantha!' I yelled as she came in.

'I'm getting my underwear. You stole my underwear!' she accused.

I sighed and dropped to my knees and retrieved her underwear. Samantha grabbed it and left me alone.

After she did so, I grumbled as I got dressed. I didn't want to get up now, especially since I didn't have school. But today was going to be much worse than school.

_Stop it, Matt,_ I chided myself. _It's going to be fine. You won't be reaped, and then everything is going to be okay. You'll just have to watch them, but nobody is going to kill other kids and you won't have to worry. Then they'll send everyone home. _

I hated the Capitol. I hated them for killing my parents seven years ago, even though it wasn't exactly their fault. My parents died in one of the many nuclear accidents at the factory. The Capitol didn't care about making it safe. Why should they? After all, it would cost them money.

But at least I got a free education, and after my parents were killed, they paid us lots of money in compensation. That didn't make me like them, but at least it was something.

**Annabelle "Annie" or "Belle" Green, 12, District 5 - The Innocent**

**I'd **never been quite this afraid before. I wanted to cry right now. Ryan stood loyally by me, and all I could think of was Elizabeth and how, if I was picked, I would find myself joining her in the afterlife.

If there was an afterlife.

The mayor read the Treaty of the Treason. He was crying as he read it. He must have been thinking of how his family was obliterated in a bombing in the Dark Days, the same one that took my big sister.

After that, they played the anthem.

And then it was time for the escort to come onstage.

She was young. She couldn't have been older than Elizabeth's age when she died, sixteen. It was a funny thought that she might actually be younger than some of the possible tributes here. The escort girl had dark blond hair piled up on top of her head in a very elaborate bun, a few strands falling loose around her square-shaped face. She was pretty without being beautiful, and her blue eyes darted back and forth nervously. She looked like she didn't quite want to be here, and my heart leaped.

'Hi,' she said shyly. 'I'm your escort. My name's Queenie Gold. Um...happy Hunger Games to District Five. May the odds be ever in your favor, okay?'

She smiled perkily, more comfortable now, thinking that maybe this would be okay after all.

Oh, no.

She waved at us. 'Thanks for powering our nation, by the way! We'd be goners without you all! Anyway...um..girls first.'

She looked a bit more nervous again as she picked the name from the bowl.

'Annabelle Greene!'

**Matthew "Matt" Downe, 14_, _District 5 - The Optimist**

**Everybody **stared in horror as the adorable little twelve - year - old froze and stumbled on stage. A few tears fell from her striking blue eyes. She wore a light blue dress down to her knees, and a pair of ratty old flats. Her golden hair fell around her shoulders in beachy waves. She whimpered.

Queenie bit her lip. 'Oh, geez. Calm down, honey, it's gonna be okay.' She gave the girl's hand a squeeze.

'I'm Annie,' the girl, Annabelle - or Annie - whispered into the mic.

'Annie, then,' said Queenie. 'You'll be okay, honey pie. Well. Boys next.'

I crossed my fingers.

'Matthew Downe!' she called, sounding miserable.

And my heart stopped. I looked around. Perhaps I could run away...? No. No, I could not. Everyone I knew and everyone I didn't know was staring at me. If I ran, the Peacekeepers would shoot me dead. At least in the Games I would have a chance, slim as it may be.

I walked on stage trying to stay calm.

'Hi, Matthew,' said Queenie sympathetically.

'It's Matt,' I told her.

'Matt, then. Hi, Matt.'

**Annabelle "Annie" or "Belle" Green, 12, District 5 - The Innocent **

**I **was sitting on a very nice sofa, trying not to cry again. The boy, Matt, wanted to be my ally, and I said yes. That was good, but I really wanted just to be safe at home.

My parents burst in. They seemed stunned and horrified, and afraid.

'Elizabeth...Elizabeth...' my father was muttering.

I held my mom and I held my dad and we stayed that way for a very long time until the Peacekeepers dragged them away.

Then Ryan came.

'Oh, _Belle_!' he cried, distressed.

I patted his arm.

'I brought you something,' Ryan said. He brandished a slightly ramshackle metal bracelet. It looked like it had been put together by hand, with wire...

By hand! With wire!

'This is what you were working on,' I said.

'Yes, my Belle. It is. And it's for you.' Ryan said.

******Matthew "Matt" Downe, 14_, _District 5 - The Optimist**

**Only **Samantha and my grandmother came. My grandmother didn't stay long, but she hugged me and told me she loved me.

That left Samantha. 'You're going to try to win, aren't you?' she said.

'Yeah, of course.'

'Good. But for that, you need to be smart. And lucky.'

'You're telling me.'

Samantha smiled. She brandished her lucky rabbit's foot.

'This is yours, Sam. Are you sure?' I was hesitant.

' Of course I'm sure. I'll be getting it back.'


	8. D6 Reaping - Two Warriors

_**District Six Reaping: Two Warriors**_

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**A note to ShadyRach, creator of Low: You didn't say much about Low's sister, so I made most of it up. I hope it's okay. **

**Light "Low" Harlow, 16, District 6 - ****The Protector**

**I **wanted to see her today, but I knew that I couldn't. Her new parents would be doting over her, making sure she had on the fanciest dress and the nicest bows in her hair and the shiniest shoes on her feet. They didn't really like me, with my ragged air - the messily cut blond hair kept in the messy braid, the ragged jeans and T - shirts. It was a small miracle that they adopted her.

I stood in front of the mirror, tying my usual sloppy braid. My ring caught on a strand and I ripped the hair out, ignoring the bit of pain it brought me.

I would never take that ring off. Even if my life depended on it.

Tossing back my hair, I marched out of the room and out the door. I didn't know where I was going to go. Just...somewhere. I wanted to go somewhere. Yes. Somewhere.

The Capitol train rattled past. A group of young children dashed up to it and started throwing rocks at it. One passed through a window, shattering it, and the children scattered like a bunch of spooked birds.

It wasn't until I stopped in front of the house that I realized where it was I was going. My feet had taken me there, involuntarily.

I was at the house of my sister, Song.

I'd been six and she'd been four when my parents realized money was too tight to raise two little girls. So they put Song up for adoption. She'd cried. I'd cried too, and even then I wasn't much of a crier.

Song was adopted quickly. There was something loveable about her - her golden curls and her big brown eyes, her soft porcelain doll cheeks. Her wide gape - toothed grin. Most people didn't know that that tooth wasn't lost the Gnatural way, but when she and I were sparring in the backyard.

Thank God it was loose.

I still saw Song, but her new parents were dirty rich, and, like I said before, didn't like me very much.

I rang the doorbell and after a moment, her new mother answered.

'Oh! Hi. Light, how are you?'

'Fine, ma'am. Can I see my sister?'

Mrs. Acre's faces stiffened. 'Sorry, Light. Song is getting ready. You know she's got the most stubborn curls that just won't stay flat!' She laughed quickly. 'Why don't you come see her after the Reaping?'

'Either one of us might get picked, ma'am.' I said tightly.

Mr.s Acre sighed. 'Yes. Well. I doubt that will happen. Song didn't take tesserae, and neither did you, if I recall.'

'I just want to - '

'Light. I tried to be nice, but you're just so stubborn. Song is getting ready for the Reaping. You'll have to go now.'

**Phineas "Phin" Reed, 18, District 6 - The Soldier**

**Thank **God I had something clean, or else I'd be wearing one of my many ratty, ripped shirts, which might stand out at the Reaping.

Or would it?

Here in District Six, we weren't exactly well off. We weren't bad, but we weren't exactly the Capitol either.

But even in a district as poor as Eleven or Twelve, they surely had some clean things.

I shook my head. Why was I making such a fuss about this? It wasn't like I cared about such things.

I knew the answer, though it was something I tried to lie about to myself.

I didn't want to be noticed...because I was on the Capitol's Wanted list. Well, I didn't know that for sure, but I had a feeling I was. I wouldn't be surprised if I was.

If such a list existed.

The Wanted list was but a rumor, but a perfectly reasonable one.

The gong sounded, and so I ran my fingers over the frame of a faded photograph, the one with me and my sister, Megaera, who was only thirteen when she was killed.

'See ya, Meg,' I said softly. 'Maybe I'll bring you to that party after the Reaping.' When she was alive, Meg had loved the District's parties and festivals, very unlike me.

Of course, she couldn't actually go, but I could put the picture in the pocket of my trousers and go myself.

Unless I was Reaped.

**Light "Low" Harlow, 16, District 6 - ****The Protector**

**Once** I got to the Reaping,i found myself searching for my sister. She would not be hard to spot: a small girl of about fourteen with prominent green eyes and thick, splendid golden hair wearing some extravagant gown and fancy new shoes. Very unlike most people in District Six.

But I didn't, and the Reaping was about to start, so I hurried over to the 16 - year - old section where I belonged and waited until the mayor came up to the mic.

He welcomed us grimly, and read out the Treaty of the Treason, and they played the anthem of Panem, which I had never liked.

Then he waved at our escort.

She was young and pretty, with deep brown skin and thick black locks and blinking deep blue eyes. 'Hello, District Six!' she chirped. 'OM_G_! This is, like, super exciting. I mean, the Reaping of the very first Hunger Games. Yay! Well, my name is Splendid Lust. And I'm the escort of your district, the transportation district, for many years to come!'

Splendid squealed. 'But, anyway. Let's, like, pick the girls and, like, get this party started!' She did a little jig and grabbed a name from the female bowl. 'Girls first, 'cause girls run the world! Hooray!'

She held the slip up for us all to see, then unfolded it. 'Ooh, what a pretty name!' She gushed. 'Rosa Mackinac!'

I did not know a Rosa Mackinac.

But behind me, a little girl shrieked and made her way forwards from the thirteen year old section.

She didn't look like Song in the least. The girl, Rosa, had dark, matted brown hair hanging limply around skinny shoulders, and wore a ragged sky blue dress and ratty black flats. She had wide, frightened brown eyes that flicked back and forth nervously.

A hush fell over the district. Surely no one would allow such a little girl to go in? She'd die on the first day!

But somehow, despite her differences from my sister, I saw Song.

_I want to be worth something_, I thought to myself. _I want to have something to do with my life._

I knew what I had to do. As Rosa Mackinac took her place onstage, I rushed forwards.

'I volunteer as tribute!'

**Phineas "Phin" Reed, 18, District 6 - The Soldier**

**There** was no denying the shock in everyone's eyes as the girl raced forward to volunteer. She was two years younger than I, for she raced forth from the sixteen - year - old section.

It didn't look like she was related to that girl - in contrast to Rosa's dark hair, hers was messy and blond, in a braid. Rosa had wide, surprised brown eyes, and this girl had eyes of a deep, forest green.

She wore ripped jeans, a tattered white T - shirt and a denim jacket, worn trainers.

'I volunteer!' she cried again.

Rosa looked at her with wide, startled eyes.

The escort, Splendid, blinked. 'Oh. Um, all right. Off the stage, Rosa, dear.'

Rosa walked off slowly, her eyes trained on the mysterious volunteer.

'What's your name?' Splendid asked.

'Light Harlow,' the girl said into the mic. 'My name is Light Harlow. I go by Low.'

Splendid shook her head. 'Ugh. Girl, you gotta get yourself a better nickname. Here, maybe your district partner can help ya with that. Who is...'

She chose a name.

'Phineas Reed!'

I stiffened in shock. My friend Alexander took a step away from me. I walked forth, struggling to keep my composure, and to ease the terrified child inside me.


	9. D7 Reaping - Outsiders on the Inside

**Author's Note: I apologize for being gone so long, but updates will be frequent from here on out, so I hope you, my mates, have stuck around! I would've updated sooner, but I fell sick when I got home, and my little brother and sister were bothering me, so I went and took my laptop and sat down to write in Russell Square, near where I live. Any fellow Londoners been there?**

_**District**** Seven Reaping: Outsiders on the Inside**_

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**IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE: The following chapter contains mention of Christianity. I am not Christian, my family has no religion, but I thought it would be an interesting angle. I mean no insult to people who may be Jewish, Muslim, Buddhist, or any other religion. Please understand, thank you - Sira.  
**

**Mint 'MT' Talton, 15, District 7 - The Social**

**I **patted the tenner in my pocket. I was done for if I lost it - but luckily, it was still there, nice and safe.

Ironically, it was quite a nice day out, here in the wood. The trees cast shade over the twisting path, just enough salvation from the beating summer sun. Small animals skirted around, hiding when they saw me. A few children could be seen playing a game of hide - and - seek. One small boy pressed his fingers to his lips at me furiously. 'You'd better not sell me out!'

'I won't!' I promised quickly, and he nodded.

I hadn't seen him in the loggers' row; he must be a village child. After the Dark Days, Seven took a nasty turn for the worst. Almost everything was destroyed, even the mayor's house. The Capitol built a long row of three room cabins along the woods for logger families like mine, and they rebuilt the merchant's homes, but everybody else had to live in what was left of the buildings. Most families lived in piles of rubble that had never been cleared up. You saw them when you walked into town, especially young street urchins; dirty, ragged children wandering around, playing games with bits of stone and ash.

I bowed my head and walked quickly along, not wanting to indulge in conversation.

'MINT!' a little voice cried.

I turned to see a small, skinny girl in rags racing up to me, her bare feet scratched from twigs and sharp stones. I slowed and smiled a bit as she raced up to me.

Six years old, Noelle was part of a band of homeless children, but unlike those who lived in the decrepit buildings in town, she and her urchins lived in the forest. I'd run into her once, when Thyme and I'd been taking firewood and she'd gotten her foot stuck in a pit of some sort. She'd thanked us, and more or less idolized me since.

I liked Noelle. She was a sweet, talkative little orphan, but I was a bit awkward around her. How did a fifteen - year - old interact with a six - year - old? She was always so bright and perky for her state, those blue eyes always full of hope.

'Hi, sweetie,' I said in answer.

Noelle trotted to keep up with me. 'Where are you going, Mint? Are you going to the Reaping this early? It's not until eleven thirty, you know! You'll have time to play with me before!'

'I'm not going to the Reaping,' I said uncertainly. 'To the baker's.'

'Okay, Mint! Good luck at the Reaping! I just know you won't be picked, I can feel it!' Noelle waved, and took off the way she came.

I looked after her 'til she was gone, then smiled and shook my head before going on to the baker's.

I gave the baker my tenner. The bakery was in one of the few buildings left in one piece, but they weren't especially wealthy. Their four children went about in rags because there was nothing else they could afford. I noticed one of their little girls peeking out at me from behind the counter.

He started to give me two in change, after my purchase of several loaves of bread for eight, but it was then I noticed the little bag of sugared sweets. It cost two. 'I'll have one of those, too, please.' I said, pointing.

The baker took back my two and handed me the bag. 'For your brother?'

I shook my head, and he shrugged. 'Well. Good luck, Mint.'

'Thanks,' I mumbled, a blush rising to my cheeks. I ducked my head and went back home.

Those little sweets weren't for Thyme. They were for Noelle.

**Miller Pratt, 18, District 7 - The Humble**

**A **ragged looking crowd of children were watching me at work. You'd see a lot of ragged looking children these days in Seven. I swung the axe back and the wood splintered on impact. I dropped my weapon briefly and rubbed my hands together, which were raw and red from holding my axe for so long.

One more good swing and I was down for the day. I had to serve my District.

_At the end of the day, it's another day over, Miller._

I picked up my axe and gave a good, hearty swing. And the tree fell. The children scattered like frightened pigeons. I sighed and began to drag my tree through the woods. I didn't have much time before the Reaping, so I'd done my work near the loggers' cabins.

I added the tree in my family work pile and went inside my parents' cabin. I would go to my own, next door, after the Reaping.

'There you are, Miller!' called my mother, looking up from the stove. 'I just bought some fresh ham from the butcher's. You can have some before the Reaping.'

'Thank you,' I said, walking over to the table. I took two slices, saving the rest to share with the rest of the loggers for the planned celebration after the Reaping.

I wouldn't be picked. My name wasn't in there that many times. I was safe.

**Mint 'MT' Talton, 15, District 7 - The Social**

**'There**, Mint,' said my mother. 'I think you're all set for the Reaping!'

I looked at myself in the mirror. I wore a black long - sleeved dress with a V-neck. My dark hair was braided, and I didn't look like myself, the daughter of two lumber mill - managers.

'You look pretty,' said Thyme, my eleven year old brother, softly. I smiled.

'Thanks, Thyme.' I raised my chin. 'Let's go. Might as well get this over with, right?'

**Miller Pratt, 18, District 7 - The Humble**

**At** the Reaping, they read the Treaty of the Treason and I waited with the other 18 - year - olds. One girl next to me was crying into her hands. I patted her back, and she looked up at me with red eyes, red from crying.

I recognized her: Serena, whose father was our Bishop. I hadn't even knows Bishops could have children. Well, ours did, apparently. She sniffed and smiled. She opened her mouth, but before she could speak, our Escort walked onstage.

She wore a long blue dress, wore a hat with peacock feathers on it, and had short blond hair. She smiled at us.

'Hello. My name is Rosaline, your escort. I'm honored to be here in the name of our glorious Capitol and in the name of the Lord.' She raised her head towards the sky.

Next to me, Serena's eyes flashed in anger. 'How dare she?!'

I bowed my head. 'It's the Capitol, Serena. All the Capitol.'

Serena closed her eyes. 'Yes, it is. But I will always hold my faith in God. Know what I believe?' She smiled and cocked her head at me. 'That God will get us out of this mess. One day, the Capitol's gonna fall...'

But onstage, Rosaline had taken the female slip. Serena closed her eyes.

The name called was not Serena's.

**Mint 'MT' Talton, 15, District 7 - The Social**

**'Mint **Talton!'

I bowed my head and closed my eyes. Tears threatened but I quickly raised my head and wiped them away. Chin held high, I put on a winning smile and made my way forth.

Rosaline nodded to me. 'The Capitol has called on you. It's God's will.'

I beamed at the cameras. 'Of course it is! I mean, it's all a Game, right?' I giggled slightly. 'I am so honored to represent our District! Sure, we went through hard times in the Dark Days, but that's all past, right? Now we're doing much better! It's all a Game!'

But nobody answered, because, while I'd been offering my rant, all sarcastic, the male tribute had been chosen and had taken his place.

_Miller Pratt!_I recognized him, though we'd never spoken. He cut down wood! He lived in the row of cabins.

What would become of us, the tributes of District Seven? Looked like we'd just have to wait...

**Miller Pratt, 18, District 7 - The Humble**

**'I **thought...I thought...' my mother stammered.

'I know, Mother,' I said. 'I thought I'd be okay, too.'

Her large blue eyes brimmed with tears, tears that she'd been suppressing for so many months. 'Come home safely,' she whispered, pressing a kiss against my head. 'And' - she added - 'don't lose your glasses!'

She adjusted my oval - shaped glasses. 'Don't lose them,' she repeated weakly.

'I won't,' I whispered.

And then she was gone.

My father and friends had come before her, and given me my token: a wooden toy log, so I was surprised when a knock sounded at the door.

Serena entered.

'Hi,' she said. 'My father was horrified. He knows you and your family work hard for the District.'

'Your father knows me?' I blurted, then flushed. Gee. Did that sound rude at all?

'Oh, sure,' said Serena, nodding. She sat down on the floor. 'You go to church every week, remember? He recognized you from services.'

'I see.'

'Anyway,' Serena said quietly. 'I just came to wish you luck. My father can pray for you. You pray too, okay?'

'Okay,' I said softly. 'Thanks.'

Serena dipped her head. 'There's nothing to thank.'

**Mint 'MT' Talton, 15, District 7 - The Social**

**'Well.'**

My mother was calm. 'There's nothing to worry about,' she said. 'You'll win, Mint. I know you'll win. We didn't expect this... But you'll see. Just...I know you'll win.'

'Yes,' said my father. 'Yes, Rose-Marie. Mint will win. We know it.' He squeezed my hand. 'Like your mother said, MT, this comes as a shock. And I'm worried for you, not that you'll die, but that you have to go through that.'

'Are you going to makes allies?' Thyme, my little brother, asked. 'I would. If I were in there.'

'But you're not,' I told him. 'And you won't go in, I promise you that.'

'My name will be in the bowl next year.' he argued.

But soon, we all calmed down again. It was a bit creepy, actually. I took my token, a thin gold band that had been my grandma's engagement ring.

And they were gone.

I did not expect the door to open. I had no friends.

Noelle peered in, trembling. 'Hiya, Mint.'

'Noelle!' I exclaimed in surprise.

'I'm sorry you got picked,' she whispered. 'I thought ya wouldn't. But you'll win for sure. You're so good with axes, and climbing trees.'

Noelle looked so small and vulnerable there, on the rug, in her rags.

'Sit down,' I said awkwardly, patting a spot next to me on the sofa.

'Okay.'

We sat in silence for a while, her looking at her bare toes. Suddenly, I remembered.

'Noelle!'

'Yes?' she asked timidly.

'This is for you.'

And I dropped the sugared sweets into her palm.

**AN: To the creators: I hope you didn't mind my adding Serena and Noelle, since they weren't yours. **


	10. D8 Reaping - How Was I To Know?

_**District Eight Reaping: How Was I To Know?**_

* * *

**Kiara 'Kiri' Ivan, 14, District Eight - The Logician**

**'And **of course she has to go ahead and do this! Of course she does!'

I was in a bad mood, as one might be able to guess. I was sulking and pacing around my room. I hated pacing. I hated sulking.

'Kiri,' my sister tried. 'Calm down. Put on a dress or something for the Reaping, okay?'

I spun on her. 'The Reaping is at noon! I'll just fuss it up!' I shook my head. 'I'll get to my studies.'

Lyla lifted a shoulder. 'Kiri, we don't _own_ anything that's not fussed up. And how can you study when you might die, you might be picked and die?'

I shook my head and pressed a kiss against Lyla's temple. 'Shh. I won't be picked, Lyla. Come on, there's some water to be fetched.'

During the Dark Days, most of the Districts regressed in some ways into a sort of...ancient time period. Well, not ancient, but about a hundred and fifty years. The year now was 2057. I mean, we still had TV and stuff, but...well...we had to do things like get water from wells. Only the merchants had running water now a days.

There weren't vacuum cleaners now, either, but even the merchants and people in District Two didn't have those. Vacuum cleaners existed solely in One and the Capitol.

As a result, it was now a rare thing to see a girl going about in trousers; all girls wore dresses now, really. I forced Lyla to put on her bonnet - that was just the sad way of things now - and we were on our way, grabbing a bucket as we went out the door.

The well was a ways into the small stretch of woods; though our District was in textiles, we bordered with Seven and shared a small bit of wood.

'Kiri,' said Lyla, 'do you really think you'll be okay?'

I shook my head. 'Of course I will be! Relax, Lyla. I am gonna be totally fine. You'll see. I'm only fourteen, mind you. My name's only in there three times.'

Lyla sighed. 'Well, least you didn't take tesserae,'

'Right,' I said. 'Least I didn't.'

We took the water and shared the wight of the bucket, dumped it into the basin in the kitchen.

'My girls! Ah, there you are!' Grandmother came in, wearing her factory worker's uniform. 'Oh, good, you got some water. Thank you!'

'Grandmother.' I said, hurrying over to give her a peck on the cheek. 'I hope you didn't overwork yourself or anything.'

' 'Course not!' she scoffed. 'Well, would you look at the time - it's eleven thirty! It's time for you to put on your dresses.' She beamed at us, and I wondered what in God's name was so bloody exciting.

And then she whipped it out: the most beautiful dress I'd laid eyes on. It was a pale pink evening gown, down to my knees, I'd say. It came with a blue sash, blue as midnight.

'For me?' I breathed.

'Yes, yes, Kiri, for Reaping Day. I'm hoping it'll get your mind offa what there is to come.'

I swallowed. 'It's perfect.'

**Stitch 'Wev' Wevner, 18, District Eight - The Patient**

**'I'll **wear this if I want to!'

As per usual, my fifteen year old brother, Zag, was arguing with my mother.

'That's too expensive, Zag! We're going to have to sell it if we're going to make a living!' my mother insisted.

I shook my head and sighed. Would it never end?

'He wants to wear a suit Mother made,' a whisper came from a corner.

I turned to see Spinner, my quieter and humbler little brother. At thirteen, he already proudly worked the machines in the main factory, and even though we worked different shifts, one of us would normally work a bit more, and run into each other.

'A suit? A real suit?' I whispered back with wide eyes. We only had one suit in the house - my father's old suit, when he was alive.

'A real suit,' Spinner confirmed.

I shook my head in disbelief. 'We could get enough bread to last us a month with a suit of Mother's quality!'

Spinner sighed, combing his ash blond hair. 'Well, that's Zag for you.'

And it really was Zag. He and Mother argued and argued until Zag gave up and settled for some of the boring old wear, overalls that were once mine.

I'd managed to buy myself something a bit more luxurious: a white button up, slacks, and even new shoes.

Question was, would I be broadcasted over Panem as tribute in those nice clothes?

No. No, of course not.

I would be fine. Fine.

**Kiara 'Kiri' Ivan, 14, District Eight - The Logician**

**All **the Reaping brought was my irritation - I couldn't stand our fussy little blonde escort, Tulip. Tulip! What a ridiculous name! She was all dainty high heels and flowing white gowns. A pair of spectacles, the frames made of real gold, were perched on her pointy nose.

'This is not a joke, District Eight,' she chided us as way of introduction. 'My name is Tulip. We'll get this done quickly. Don't dawdle if your name is called! We want to get you to the Capitol as quickly as possible. No doubt in other Districts, the tributes will burst into tears when THEIR name is called. Well, not here! Here, you'll walk on stage quickly. You'll have an hour to say goodbye to your families - the Capitol's idea, not mine, mind - and that will be all.

Now, ladies first. It is proper manners, after all!'

And with a sniff, she took the female slip as if she weren't sentencing some girl to her death.

_A girl who wouldn't be me. Some poor girl who would absolutely, positively, without a doubt -_

'Kiara Ivan!'

_- not be me. Right._

**Stitch 'Wev' Wevner, 18, District Eight - The Patient**

**The **girl, Kiara, came forwards from the 14 year old sector. She struck me as tall for her age. Her skin was ghostly pale, and her night black hair was tied in two tight braids. Kiara wore a pink evening gown with a blue sash tied tightly around her waist. I'd think she was rich, what with the luxury of her dress, if it wasn't for her ratty old shoes.

Chin held high, Kiara took her place on stage, but there was no mistaking the shaking of her knees.

'Very good,' snapped Tulip. 'Boys next, now! No dawdling, men!'

I closed my eyes. _Just be patient. She'll pick it fast, and then I'll be okay. Totally, totally okay..._

'Stitch Wevner! Take your place!' she tutted.

Something inside me froze, something...something...well, God knew what. My everything.

I would not show my emotions. I simply could not.

Must not.

I took my place on the gauntlet silently, which seemed to satisfy Tulip. A playing of the Panem anthem, and we were escorted into the Justice Building.

**Kiara 'Kiri' Ivan, 14, District Eight - The Logician**

**'And** of curse you'll do your very best, my love,' fussed Grandmother. She paced the room anxiously, casting me pitiful glances every now and then.

_I'll never see my granddaughter again_. I knew she was thinking this. It wouldn't take a genius to figure it out.

I tuned her out and took a look around the room.

I'd never been in one so grand and fine. Lush blue carpets, so thick and deep one could drown in them. Deep sofas and armchairs, pristine white, soft with velvet. A huge willow wardrobe sat at the edge of the room. I'd looked inside it; but it was empty. All too posh to be true.

Floor - to- ceiling windows, the frames ornated in intricate carvings. I could make out gargoyles and nymphs and sea maidens, just like in Mother's stories when I was very young.

Mother.

The thought of her made the entire world seem to disappear, and all I could think about was her, my beautiful young mother. She died when I was only three, birthing Lyla, my half - sister.

I couldn't remember her very well, but I did remember snuggling up with her in bed as she read to me from a huge book of fairy stories.

Sobbing from Grandmother brought me to my senses. She was sitting on one of those marvelous sofas, crying loudly.

'You know,' she sobbed, 'I remember the days before Panem! I remember...'

Peacekeepers burst into the room and yanked her out. She screamed and fought, and I yelled and cried, but to no avail. In the blink of an eye, she was gone.

But soon Lyla was in her place - sweet, sweet Lyla, who sat on the floor by my feet and cried too.

So many tears, so many shed tears but unspoken words.

'Kiri, you gotta try! You gotta try!' she wailed.

'Of COURSE I'll try,' I said with a shake of my head. I patted a spot on the sofa next to me, and she took it, weeping into my shoulder.

'Mother's,' she whispered. She pressed something into my hand. 'Don't look at it now, Kiri. I want to be able to see you for every second I can.'

'Yes,' I murmured. 'I want to see you, too. Don't take Tesserae, when your name is in the bowl next year Lyla Ivan. Don't you dare.'

'I promise I won't. But...'

'I'll be around to see to it you don't,' I promised. 'Because I'll win.'

* * *

**_In The Capitol..._**

**Aura** and Haven sat on the floor, sharing a bowl of freshly made biscuits.

'These Games,' Haven said meekly, 'these Games of Da's. I don't like them. I asked him to call his Games off. He said no.'

'Da won't,' Aura said icily. 'They'll go on forever.'

Haven turned to face her sister with wide eyes. 'Forever?'

Aura dipped her head.'Yep. Unless we do something.'

'We could,' Haven mused. 'But what?'

All of a sudden, an idea struck Aura. She stood. 'Wait here,' she ordered Haven.

Haven did, watching the end of the Reaping in District Eight.

_Da can be mean sometimes, he really can..._

Ten minutes later, as an advert for the Hunger Games played with bright, cheery music, and stick people as the tributes, Aura was back.

"Get up,' she said softly. 'Now.'

'Why?' Haven pouted, even though she did as she was told. 'Aura! Where are we going?'

Aura took Haven's hand tightly. It hurt, but Haven didn't dare object. 'We're going,' Aura whispered once they were outside.

'Going?' Haven echoed. 'Going where?'

Aura let go of Haven. 'Home.'


	11. D9 Reaping - An Act of Kindness in

_**District Nine Reaping: An Act of Kindness in a Dark Time  
**_

* * *

**Ava Warren, 12, District Nine - The Curious**

**With **the Reaping day came the rain, soft and merciful, but rain all the same. It was the first sound I heard when I woke up come morning, and I rubbed my eyes and crawled out of bed. I peered out the window to see the ground wet, dank, and muddy, more or less matching my mood.

I sighed and looked around the room. Stephen and my parents were both awake, so I went into the only other room in our house, a kitchen. A sofa sat, moldering away, in a corner. Jack, my faithful dog, curled up on it, sleeping.

I took a seat at the table, hands folding tightly. Stephen looked up and gave my hands a squeeze. I smiled shakily.

We were both legible. This wouldn't be my last year in the bowl. It was my first, but of course it was everyone's first. At eighteen, Stephan was safe if he made it through this Reaping.

Grim faced and silent, my mother dropped a pathetic lump of scrambled eggs on my plate. Eggs weren't hard to come by for us. We had a small hen house out back, and even though it was illegal, my family and I still smuggled several into the house.

Those eggs were supposed to go to the Capitol. One would think we'd live in Ten, raising hens and all. But that was really more of a job for Stephen and me. Mum and Dad worked the fields; Stephen and I stayed home with the hens. Most families in Nine had their children working in the grain fields as young as five, but my parents didn't want either of us to start until we turned nineteen.

I still often went to the fields, though. I took Jack there all the time and we ran in great circles together, playing with my rubber ball. It was a rare, ancient luxury, that ball, and it was one of my greatest treasures.

Mum and Dad remained quiet all through breakfast, and I hoped they'd cope in time for the stupid Reaping at twelve thirty.

'Come on, Jack,' I told the dog after finishing my meager meal. He raised his head sleepily but hopped off the sofa and trotted after me.

We went to the fields and I threw my ball for Jack. He barked and raced after it. 'Go git it, boy!' I called after him.

I don't know how long we played there (an hour? Hour and a half?) but when my arm ached, and Jack panted heavily, I took just one more throw before going home for the Reaping.

And the ball...well, I threw it too far. I threw the ball too far, and it disappeared. _Poof_ed in the endless maze of wheat.

I froze.

My ball was gone. My beautiful, beautiful, precious rubber ball was..._gone_.

A whimper escaped me. My eyes stretched wide. I dropped to my knees.

'Jack? Jack, go geddit, boy.'

Jack looked at me as if to say, _It's gone. I dunno where it's got to. _

Gone. Gone. _Gone_. GonegonegonegonegonegoneGONE.

A shuffling of footsteps made me raise my head. A boy stood over me. Bigger than I was. More a young man, really. Maybe Stephen's age of eighteen, give or take. He had blond hair, spiky, blue eyes, and a light dusting of freckles over his nose.

'Is this yours?' he asked me. He held out his hand, and there it was: my ball. My small, wonderful, blue rubber ball.

Mouth agape, I wordlessly reached for it and took it in my hand. 'Y-yes. Thank you.'

The young man shrugged. 'Anytime, kid.' With a laugh, he did a cartwheel and raced off, cartwheeling or somersaulting every so often.

**Tyler 'Ty' Bright, 18, District Nine - The Reckless**

**It **felt nice to give that little girl her ball. God knows how expensive that thing must have been. It must be some old toy run in the family. A rubber ball. Rubber!

When I was a kid, the balls I played with were balled-up wads of paper.

I worked until the sun told me it was noon, time to go. I gathered my tools raced, fast as I could, towards the to the main hut. I received five cents for my work (I'd been up since six a.m.) and made my way to our shack of a house.

Dad was passed out in front of the window, a bottle of whiskey in hand. The liquid was dribbling out of its bottle and onto his pants, leaving a large wet mark that would probably be interpreted for something else. Something that wasn't whiskey, if you know what I mean. With a sigh, I took the bottle and placed it on the table in front of him.

Mum died thirteen years ago, and since her loss, Dad had done well. He'd moved on and seen to it he raised a happy five - year - old Ty.

Then the Games came.

And he started drinking.

He had to be quite hungover to shout at me, but it stung to see him reduced to this.

I changed from work clothes to a pair of baggy, over-sized slacks, and a blue and white striped jumper.

I glanced at Dad on my way out the door, but he was asleep. The Peacekeepers might come for him, or they might not. Either way, I left my five cents on the table for him.

**Ava Warren, 12, District Nine - The Curious**

**'Hayley's **the name.'

The first thing that struck me of our escort was her beauty. Beautiful green eyes, flawless, slightly tanned skin, and stunning brown locks, shiny and clean, cascading over perfectly structured shoulders. She looked like something out of a fairy story.

I wondered if she'd look so pretty without the makeup on. She would, I decided.

Hayley grinned at us and waved hello. Popped some pink chewing gum. Chewing gum! I'd never had any before. But sometimes, the characters in the old books of Mum's had chewing gum.

I shifted from foot to foot as Hayley chirped away, not quite a 'Valley Girl' but certainly oblivious to the fear going on below her.

She trilled her way through the dull Treaty of the Treason, and I tuned her out and thought about my Jack. He hadn't been able to come to the Reaping. I wondered if I'd feel better with him around, or if I'd be too frightened to appreciate my dog's being there.

I was only brought to my senses when Hayley called out a name.

'Ava Warren!'

**Tyler 'Ty' Bright, 18, District Nine - The Reckless**

**The **girl in question, Ava Warren, didn't react at first. Unsure, Hayley called it again.

'Ava Warren?'

Suddenly a voice snarled, 'Here she is! She's here!'

A cry came from the twelve - year - old section as a little girl stumbled forwards. She wore a plain white dress and worn sandals. A threadbare black sash was tied around her thin waist.

She was small and pale, with wide brown eyes. Her hair, strawberry blonde, was tied into a ponytail with a piece of yarn. I had a strange feeling I'd seen her before.

And when she took her place onstage, I realized where it was I'd seen her, little Ava Warren.

I'd seen her this morning. The girl with the ball!

I was stunned, horrified. Twelve years old.

And then Hayley called the boy's name...Tyler Bright.

Me.

**Ava Warren, 12, District Nine - The Curious**

**Mum **and Dad were in hysterics.

I sat and took their tears, shedding a few of my own.

They left with puffy, bloodshot eyes and weary expressions. I waited for Stephen - surely my big brother would come for me?

I waited a while until he entered, hugging his arms to his chest.

'Stephen!' I cried.

A finger to his lips. Stephen said nothing as he slowly unbuttoned his jacket, and something fell to the floor. Or, more correctly, jumped to the floor.

'JACK!' I squealed in my delight. My dog licked my face and licked my tears and I cried and laughed and held him. I looked up at Stephen. 'You went back and got him for me, didn't you?'

Stephen nodded. 'We don't have long, Ava.'

I sniffled. 'I know.' I set Jack down, and, oblivious, he curled up contentedly at my feet. Stephen took an armchair next to me and reached into his pocket, revealing a small wooden comb.

'For you.'

**Tyler 'Ty' Bright, 18, District Nine - The Reckless**

**Nobody.**

Nobody came for me.

Not even Dad.

I wondered if he was still passed out, or if he was too drunk to rememeber me.


	12. D10 Reaping - Life of the Poor

_**District Ten Reaping: Life of the Poor**_

* * *

**Author's Note: From here on out, all chapters will be written in present tense.  
**

**WARNING: The following chapter contains coarse language. Reader descretion is advised. **

* * *

**Janice North, 14, District 10 - The Deaf**

**I **ain't really deaf, y'know, it's more like I'm hearin' impaired. That's what that fancy doctor said when I got sick. It were a long time ago, and I don't really care none no more. I work here with Mommy (I still call her that, even though I'm fourteen) with them cows.

We sell milk and cheese to them Capitol bastards, and the cows when they git too old to produce milk. When a Momma cow has a boy, we don't tear her away from her baby or nothing. We just raise those boys till they git too big and we sell 'em for labor. If you ask me, I says them cows of ours git a pretty good life.

Today, there's a right nasty breeze. I can't hear it none, but I can feel it mighty fine, thank ya kindly. Before I go out to milk them cows, I gotta put on my li'l' shawl to wrap around my shoulders. It's snug, and I pat the pocket of my dress before I head out, just to make sure my buzzer's still in there.

That buzzer were damn pricey, but since Mommy can't call me from 'cross the land, she gotta push this switch, see, and then it gits my buzzer beatin' and vibratin' so much it spooks the cows.

I milk them cows, treatin' my fav'rite, Bessie, specially good, cos she's always gentle and peaceful - like. I heave all that milk in all them little pails to the house, 'fore I pour it all into a bigger pail to take into town.

I don't catch Mommy, which is a damn shame. But I carry all the milk into town, where I git paid some by the men who ship it onto them Capitol trains. I s'pose today, that milk's goin' on that train fer the poor tributes who git picked.

When they was talking 'bout that 'Tesserae' Mommy and I was doing fine, so I didn't take none, but now it's gittin harder to get by. I think I'm gonna hafta take some of that Tesserae next year.

I haul my milk through the biggest part o' Ten. This is where all of us raise our animals for milk, eggs, meat, and labor. Seein as it's our main source, what we do here is raise livestock, it's been nicknamed the Fruit. Like, the fruit o' the District, see.

It's big, but it ain't where most of us lives. Most of us here in Ten live in the poor part, the slums, which everyone calls the Shard. I ain't never been there before, it's so outta the way o' everything.

Where I'm headed now is that fancy part which us Fruit an' Shard people call the Gem. Mayor lives there, and that's where they're gonna have that Reaping today, too.

When I walk into the shop, the man who runs the li'l place smiles at me. He's real posh, but he don't mind me much, seein' as I'm such a cause fer pity an' all that. Seein' as I cain't hear much. But if a noise is real loud or high, I hear it, and I can read people's lips, no problem.

And I can talk.

Louisa, she's my best friend, she says that my voice is all broken and loud, but she don't mind none.

'Hello, Janice,' says the man's lips.

'Hullo, sir,' I says. 'Gotcha some nice milk here, I do.'

The mister grins real wide and says, 'That's real good, Janice, hun. Now, why dontcha lay it down on the scale and weigh it, then I pay you?'

'Hey, mister,' I says. I drops the milk on the scale and since I got so much, he pays me a fiver. he says really he owes me three, but seein' as I'm such good business for him and how it's Reaping Day fer me, he don't mind givin' me a bit extra.

So, I hurry home, where Mommy sweeps me into an embrace, and she says something, but she's smilin' so much I can't read her lips too good.

**Sebastian Hozuki, 18 District 10 - The Klutz**

**'Shit!'**

The curse escapes me as I take the nastiest tumble I ever done. The mug, filled with coffee, don't break on the floor, but it falls over and all that warm drink spills out. 'Shit!' I says again.

I pick up the mug and set it down on the counter. Then, I take a cloth in my hand and scrub the coffee away. The old fart who ordered it, only man in the restaurant, looks at me, real disapprovin'ly. 'You're quite a klutz, my boy,' he tells me crossly.

'I'm real sorry, mister,' I says apologetically. 'Really I am. I'll get ya another coffee.' I take my rag and race into the kitchen.

See, while my family don't do half-bad (we live in a small apartment above the restaurant in the Gem, only people who can afford to eat out) we often find a lack o' customers and lots of the food spoils.

I take another mug and start to fill it with coffee.

'Aw, Sebastian!' Pa sighs. 'You ain't done it again!'

'I ain't broken it this time, Pa,' I insist. 'Just spilled it.'

I takes the mug to the mister, who scowls at me. 'Better not break that cup on the way back, or your family will be rose off than they are now, my boy!' The old fart lets out a loud 'HA!' and swigs down his drink.

I scrub a counter as I work, in a foul mood. It's Reaping Day, day of doom, and wouldn't ya know it, but I have to work and git chewed out by some old fart who musta had one two many beers this mornin'.

A glance at the clock on the wall and I see it's quarter to one. Shit...Reapin's in fifteen! I just about tear into the kitchen. 'Pa! Look at the time!' I yell.

Pa curses. 'Shit.' He waves me upstairs. 'Change, now. I'll deal with our here customer.'

**Janice North, 14, District 10 - The Deaf**

**Once** that there clocks strikes one, I sees the escort walk onstage. She's pale and has hair so black ya'd think she was a goddess of nighttime.

I stand, shiftin' all uncomfortable, in place. I'm too far to read her lips, so I got no idea what she got to say. But when she takes a name from a bowl, I tense and squint. See, I'm trying to git a better look. But she speaks, and I can't tell who it is.

I wait for someone to go up. If I know 'em, well, then I'll know. But nobody goes up. First I think they're just real scared, maybe it's a twelve year old, but then someone taps my shoulder.

I turn an' see Meg, a girl from school. Meg and I ain't friends, but she's nice enough to me, and I'm nice enough to her, and that's that. Meg looks like she's gonna cry. I think, _Oh, no, it's her._

But then she says something, and I read her lips, and I freeze up. I ain't even considered what she said might happen to me. Cos what she says is,

_Janice, it's you._

**Sebastian Hozuki, 18 District 10 - The Klutz**

**Everyone **looks real horrified when that there girl, Janice, walks onstage, and I know why. Even though I TECHNICALLY live in the Gem, and she in the Fruit, but I know why.

I knows about poor Janice North.

That girl's deaf. She can't hear.

I ain't never seen her fer very long, just sometimes real quick at school, but she's younger'n me, so...

She's got an average height, I guess. Plain. She got long dark hair and a round, normally smilin' face, and freckles. Right now, she looks like she could die on the spot. I hates to think she prob'ly will die.

Ain't anyone gonna voluntter for her? She's disabled. Who here is gonna let a deaf girl into the arena to die? But no one steps forward.

'Right then,' says our escort, Glitter. 'And now for the boys.'

She walks over to the Male bowl and takes some name.

And she calls it out.

'Sebastian Hozuki!'

My heart stars a-poundin' in my chest. Cos I knows I ain't gonna have no volunteers. If no one volunteers fer a deaf girl, who's gonna volunteer fer me? I'm nervous as I takes the stage, and would ya believe it, but I trips on my way up.

**Janice North, 14, District 10 - The Deaf**

**Mommy** comes.

Now, the Justice Building is real nice. It got soft carpets and plush chairs and all that fluff. I'm sittin' on one o' them chairs when I see her come in, and her face is all read and puffy from cryin'.

'Gawd, Janice, Gawd,' her lips say.

I hug her. 'It's okay, Mommy,' I says. 'You don't need to worry 'bout me.'

Mommy nods. 'Yeah, Janice, luv. I know. I dunno how long I can stay, but here, here's a somefink fer you.'

And then she goes.

I open my hand to see what she put in there. Whatever it is, it's wrapped real tight in cloth. I unswaddle all the cloth and see what's inside.

A penknife, that's what.

******Sebastian Hozuki, 18 District 10 - The Klutz**

**I** don't git no visitors. Well, 'cept fer Pa.

'I can't lose you,' he says. 'Not like I did yer Ma.'

'You won't,' I promise, wrappin' my arms round his neck. 'I'll be okay, Pa.'

Pa nods. Whole occasion goes on like that, until just before them peacekeepers come and take him away, he gives me a token.

It's a little saltshaker shaped like a cow.

I can't help but smile.


	13. D11 Reaping: Polar Opposites

_**District Eleven Reaping: Polar Opposites**_

* * *

**Acacia 'Casey' 'Cacia' Marks, 13, District 11 - The Loyal  
**

**I'm** not going to be picked. Everyone says so. Do I believe them? I don't know. But I guess I'll simply have to wait until one thirty to know for sure.

I might go in though. I might volunteer for Saige, my twin sister, if she is chosen. After all, I'm sure she'd do the same for me. We're polar opposites, Saige and I. Oh, we care about each other, we're wound tight, but while I'm quiet and shy, Saige is one of the most popular girls at school. Popular even though she's one of the poorest and always wears rags. It's her pretty face that makes her likeable, her charisma. Besides, who doesn't go in rags these days?

I could be part of her clique if I wanted to. Even her posse invites me to sit with them at lunch. Inside, too. Mostly we all sit out in the field. I don't bother. I have my best friend Lily, and outside of her, I don't need other friends.

District Eleven is my friend. I'm proud of being from here, even if we're poor.

Now, I sit in the high trees of the orchard. Saige is with me. She's carefree in the way I'm not: she splays her body out over a sturdy branch, not holding on at all, munching on an apple. It's illegal to eat those apples and it makes me squirm to know what she's doing, but there isn't anybody around to stop us.

I look at the sun, those rays falling down over the corn fields and orchards. We'll have to go now. Saige, who can just about read my mind, raises her head, finishes off her core, and climbs down.

She's careful in one way I'm not. Saige feels safest traveling by ground, but I'm comfortable swinging from branch to branch.

We reach the gates and I hop down.

Home isn't that far. We live in a large house consisting of several smaller rooms we can rent. We live in one of those rooms. The rent is usually hard to pay, and because of that, Saige, my older brother Forest, and I, have to go about in rags.

The room has two beds. There is a larger bed where Mother, Father, and Forest sleep, and a much smaller one Saige and I share. There is a small fireplace where we cook our food on a spit, and a table with only two chairs. An old TV sits on the floor, in front of a washtub. There's a well just out back, which is good because we don't ever have to go far.

Saige and I run up the stairs, our bare feet slapping against the stone steps. We open the door to the room.

Mother is sitting on the chair. A few meager vegetables hang from the spit. The fire is small and weak.

'You'll want to put on your nice dresses for the Reaping,' she says without looking up.

I lift my skirts and bend down at her side. 'Yes, Mother. Of course. I'd love to.'

'I'll get some water for the washtub,' offers Forest. He looks up at me from his book.

Saige nods. 'Okay.' She examines her reflection in the cracked window. 'Hmm.'

I look up. 'Saige, what _is_ it?'

Saige shakes her head. 'Nothing. It's just...nothing.' She twists a lock of black hair round her finger. 'I'm scared.'

Mother raised her head. 'We all are, darling.'

Saige nods. 'Yes.'

I stand and give her hand a squeeze. 'We'll be okay, I think.'

'Right,' says Saige. 'Right.'

**James Greggor, 15, District 11 - The Silent**

**The **family in the room across the hall. I don't know any of their names. I know, though, that they have a son my age, and two little girls. Twins, I think. I don't know if they're legible or not. They could be about twelve, I suppose.

I'm legible too. And i think I'll be sick if I have to go much longer not knowing.

I pace our small room. Mother cooks over our wood oven. She looks up at me, but she doesn't move to comfort me. To ease my stress, I bend by the door and press one eye against the keyhole. The boy my age is carrying a pail of water. He opens the door, close it behind him.

'Will we eat?' I hear one of the girls say before the door fully shuts.

With a sigh, I pull from the keyhole. I should be getting ready. I take a wooden comb and try to run it through my stubborn curls of red hair, unusual for my district.

'That'll catch,' Mother says.

I look up. 'What?'

'The comb. It'll catch in your hair.'

'Oh,' I say. 'Well, we don't have another one. And my fingers won't do much good, will they?'

'No, not really.'

I give the comb a yank, and indeed, it's caught hopelessly in my curls.

**Acacia 'Casey' 'Cacia' Marks, 13, District 11 - The Loyal**

**Now **that the Reaping has come, I learn that I'm to stand with people my age. Saige and I stand by each other. She looks ready to cry. I search for Forest in the 16 - year - old sector but I don't find him.

As the clocks strikes one thirty, our escort takes her place. Long gold curls, bright blue eyes, and spray-on tan. In her ridiculous orange dress, she looks very out of place among the rags of Eleven.

Saige, Forest, and I have something special saved from before the Dark Days. Saige has a simple blue blouse and woolen brown skirt. It'll be too hot today, but it's better than rags.

What I have is a bit more luxurious, but plain, too. An aqua skirt and a white blouse. My black hair is its usual ponytails.

'Hello, hello, hello,' she singsongs. 'My name is Sparkle!'

A tittering breaks out at the sound of this absurd name.

She scowls. 'What's so funny? Well, I guess you're all just excited. Okay. Well. I'll just get on with it then. I had a joke, but...well, I'll save it for the lucky tributes.' Sparkle winks and hurriedly selects a name.

'ACACIA MARKS!' she cries.

My mouth drops open. Saige;s hand slips from mine. I take a trembling step forth.

_Maybe somebody will volunteer_.

I take another step. Not a voice.

I walk faster, to be seen. Nobody volunteers. Not even Saige.

**James Greggor, 15, District 11 - The Silent**

**Acacia.**

Well, now I know her name. One of their names. it's the girl from across the hall.

She's thirteen, then, according to the age sector she walks out of. She has tan skin, like most people here, and black hair, but unusual blue eyes like mine.

They seem out of place on her dark little face, and I'm not sure what to do. Maybe I'll just be sick.

Not nearly as sick, though, as when Sparkle calls the boy's name.

'James Greggor!'

Me.

I take a step forwards, feeling tea rushing up to come out the same way it came in.

And then the ground comes rushing towards me before going black.


	14. D12 Reaping - Taking it Well

_**District Twelve Reaping: Taking it Well**_

_**WARNING: the following chapter contains mild suggestive content so reader descretion is advised. **_

* * *

**Saalena 'Sal' Naii, 17, District Twelve - The Manipulator**

**One **day, I'm going to live in the Capitol. I'm going to move there when I turn nineteen and am no longer for the Reaping. I'm going to move there, meet the boy of my dreams, and have a posh apartment. We'll have children, and growing up in the Capitol, they'll be safe.

It will be hard to watch other people go through the Reapings. Watch children from my District die in the Games. Some I might know. Some might be the children of my school friends.

But my children, at least, will be safe.

And before that, I have to get through the Reaping coming today. My first, though it's everyone's first, what with it being the first Games.

I make all my clothes. It's hard to get good fabric, especially when you live in the Seam. But whenever I get money, I use it to buy fabrics and sewing materials. I make beautiful dresses, with lace if I can, and bonnets. My shoes - a pathetic pair of ratty platforms - are a lost cause. But it's okay. When I live in the Capitol, I will have slippers made of gold if I want.

I turn from side to side in front of our grimy, cracked mirror now. The cracks spiderweb and crawl up the reflective glass, obscuring my reflection.

But I can still see the girl there. I wonder what will become of the girl today. If I am chosen, which I very well could be, I know, I will win.

But hopefully, I won't be chosen and won't have to win.

'Saalena!'

The cry comes from outside. I yell back, 'I'm coming!' and hurry out to meet Papa.

He holds out a bouquet of dandelions. 'Take these inside, please.'

I do, brushing aside the curtains that serve as the door as I go. I know the dandelions will be our supper tonight. There's been a fair bit of talk of a party after the Reaping, one to celebrate being spared. But some will not participate.

I wonder if Papa will be one of them.

But he'll see I'll win, he will. Once I start the Games. He can't mourn two women in his life. He's already lost Mama...

A lump forms in my throat. Mama, who taught me to sew, was killed in the Dark Days, wiped out in a bombing.

I shake my head. Maybe I won't be chosen. I'm sure I'll be...

_You're lying to yourself, Sal._

I am. I took so much Tesserae when they offered it. Then, I was even thinner than I was now. I could have been anorexic. Mama had died not a month ago, and Papa was so lost in the realm of his own grief. With the war just over, and Thirteen obliterated, they brought the Games and they brought Tesserae.

I gingerly touch my hair. It's cut in a pixie. I hate my hair. It was long, once. That was a long time ago. That was in the Dark Days. My hair caught fire in the Dark Days. It looked terrible, all burned ends. So I cut it.

I miss my old hair, though. It'll have to grow out.

**Jack Ostin, 13, District Twelve - The Joker**

**'Well, **we can't say it doesn't tie us together!' I say, wiggling my eyebrows.

My sister, Rosalie, groans and buries her face in her palms. 'God, Jack. Do you have to?'

'Have to what?' I ask innocently. I fill the glass with beer and begin to take it over to the customer.

Rosalie shakes her head. 'You know what! Anyway. I'll go get Grandpapa. Tell him we have a customer.' She tosses off her apron and hurries up the stairs.

A bar. That's what Grandpapa runs. The few rich of the District always stop by for a beer or quick meal.

'Sir, for you,' I tell the old man.

He squints at me. 'How old _are_ you, boy?'

I fold my hands behind my back. 'Thirteen and screwed today.'

He scowls. 'That's no way to talk!'

'Well,' I shrug. 'I am. I'm not all that hopeful, you know.'

He shakes his head. 'What a pi - '

'Psych!' I cry. 'I'm hopeful!' I spin on my heel and dart away.

Rosalie wrings her hands when she sees me. 'Oh, Jack!'

My sister is ten, three years younger than me. But she's clever, cleverer than me. I don't mind admitting this. It's only truth.

I don't know why I make those jokes. None of them are funny. Half of them aren't even jokes, they're so stupid. And yet, it's a way for me to get by.

'Jack! Rosalie!' Grandpapa bellows.

We chorus, 'We're coming!' and race up the stairs. We have to change for the Reaping. We do so on opposite sides of a curtain, her into a plain gray gown and me into a white T-shirt and suspenders. A brown cap sits smartly on my head, and Rosalie slaps on a white bonnet.

The horn sounds.

'Sounds like somebody farted,' I say.

**Saalena 'Sal' Naii, 17, District Twelve - The Manipulator**

**The **escort is a lady with long black hair. She introduces herself as Twinkle. She says this with a scowl that doesn't suit her name. Mostly, I can't take my eyes off her dress. It goes down to her knees, and the collar is low-cut, revealing her shoulders. A dark blue belt tucks her waist in. She wears high-heeled purple boots and a purple comb in her curls.

While I don't especially like purple, which Twinkle clearly does, the luxury is astounding.

Twinkle cocks the mic from side to side. 'Well. We ought to do this quickly and efficiently,' she says in a bored tone. 'First things first: girls. And that girl is...'

She reaches into the bowl.

_Brace yourself, Sal._

'Saalena Naii!'

I wince internally. _I knew it, I guess. I always knew it..._

**Jack Ostin, 13, District Twelve - The Joker**

**The** chosen girl is seventeen. I know, because she walks from that age sector. I can't say I know her. She's pretty, though, I guess, if I'm supposed to notice that kind of thing.

Light brown skin, dark eyes, and black hair in a pixie cut. And I also notice she has large boobs. I cock my head to one side. They're quite nice, those boobs. And she has nice legs, too.

She wears a plain cream colored dress down to her knees, with a humble collar. The dress is a bit tight around the neck, it seems, and it's a little bit dirty.

This is luxury here in Twelve, where you can suffer, but at least it's safe.

Yeah. Right.

Twinkle (what a name) is quick to choose the boy's name. I hold my breath, unsure what to do.

'Jack...ohmigod, how do I pronounce this? Oostine?'

I stand, frozen. _Me?_

'Why don't you spell it?' offers the mayor.

Twinkle nods. 'Right. O - S - T - I - N.'

I lower my head. _Me._

And then, in my way, I plant a grin on my face and march forwards. 'Here I am!' I yelp.

I can see Rosalie in the underage and overage section. She buries her face in her palms. _Not now_, she must be thinking.

'Here I am!' I yell, louder. 'Hi, everybody. I'm JACK! Jack Ostin,' I add for Twinkle. 'You pronounce it "Austin"'.

'Okay,' says Twinkle. 'Okay.'

She takes each of our hands and holds them high. 'Your tributes of District Twelve!' she yells.

'I'm very honored!' I cry out.

Saalena, my district partner, looks at me oddly.

As we make our way to the Justice Building after the anthem, she whispers to me, 'What the heck was that all about?'

I grin cheekily. 'Welcome to me.'


	15. The Train Rides - Tell the Truth

_**The Train Rides: Tell the Truth**_

* * *

_**AUTHOR'S NOTE: You may want to review the Reapings before reading this, especially if you haven't since I returned. Whether or not you did, you ought to at least skim through the one for Two. **_

* * *

**Molly Grasses, 13, District 2 - The Determined**

**'So, **you just...won't eat?' I ask, looking at my district partner with a cocked eyebrow. The food here is awfully nice: it's a lot fancier than anything at home! For instance, dinner is poached baby vegetables in a caper mayonnaise. had no idea there was such thing as caper mayonnaise.

'I'm not hungry,' Hugh mumbles, playing with his knife.

I spoon a second serving onto my plate. 'Well, at least eat some bread. And how can you not be hungry? It's been hours since the Reaping.'

Hugh shakes his head, just as Monique snaps her fingers. I look at her blankly.

To my surprise, a young blond man hurries onto the scene, clad all in white. Monique snaps her fingers again and points at the spoon in the bowl of vegetables. Then, at Hugh's plate.

I blink. Why can't she talk to him? He must be a servant, because indeed, he serves Hugh a substantial amount of food.

Hugh doesn't look too happy, but doesn't really complain. He still refuses to eat the food in front of him.

'I get if you're on a diet,' says Monique, patting her thin stomach. 'For the Games. After all, you'll be on live TV. But eat some, you're already thin.'

Hugh shrugs.

After dinner, I go to my room to watch the Reaping recaps. Might as well know who my competition is. Right?

Only a few have a lasting impression later on. The girl from District One's sister screams and cries for her. The girl from Three swears at the escort. I have great admiration for her.

The girl from Six volunteers. The boy from Eleven faints. But that's all, really. The rest of the tributes I remember in faint snippets, just more lives that might be lost.

The question is not how many, the question is which ones. Only one will make it out. I hope to God it's me.

**James Greggor, 15, District 11 - The Silent**

**Morocco.**

Can't say I've heard of the place. But, incidentally, it's where the carrots in our salad at dinner come from. Acacia eats quietly, her head lowered. Sparkle is clearly used to this food, and eats as casually as if it were an apple.

Not that actually getting an apple is common for us in Eleven.

I do wonder what kind of place Morocco is, though. I wonder if it's like Eleven. We grow carrots at home. Is Morocco nearby? I wouldn't know. At school, and all the books in the library, don't tell us about the world outside of Panem. We don't know even know how big the world is.

We know that there are more places, but we might be the only people on Earth. I really don't know.

'I'm full,' Acacia mumbles, pushing her plate away.

I understand: while it was only her second serving, we're not used to eating so much.

'But you haven't even had dessert yet!' complains Sparkle. She shakes her head. 'You have to eat dessert. James, you want dessert, right?'

Her only reply is a blank stare. I haven't talked at all since I woke up. I missed Mother, too. But she did leave me my token.

Sparkle whines until the servants (I learn they're called Avoxes) bring an enormous chocolate cake with raspberry icing and filled with rhubarb (whatever that is) whipped cream.

Even though I'm full, I manage three and a half slices, and Acacia makes it through two.

We go to our rooms to see the Reapings for the other districts, but Acacia follows me.

'You live in the room across from mine, don't you?' she asks, leaning against the door-frame.

'Um,' I say.

'You can talk, right? I don't think I've ever heard you talk.'

'I can talk,' I deadpan.

Acacia pauses. 'Oh. Do you talk much, then?'

'Not really, Acacia.'

'Casey,' she corrects me. 'Call me Casey. Everybody does.'

When I don't answer, she walks in. I notice, suddenly, that she's chosen to stay in her dress. Her ragged, dirty bonnet still sits on her little dark head. She sits on the plush, posh chair by my desk.

She lowers her head. 'I'm normally quiet, too. If you were wondering.'

I shake my head. 'Oh?'

Casey shrugs. 'I don't know why I'm being so forward now...sorry. Did that sound rude?' She looks up at me, looking worried. 'Mother always tell me to watch my manners.'

I shake my head again.

She takes this as a _No, that didn't sound rude_, and I suppose she's right.

'I'm scared too,' she says slowly, like she's unsure of this.

'Are you?' I ask her.

Casey nods. 'Let's watch the Reapings.'

I turn on my TV, and we do, her on the chair; me on the bed, cross-legged. When they're over, she leaves to her own room, to sleep, I suppose.

I can't help but wonder if we'll be allies. We're both used to being quiet. We wouldn't need to talk much.

**Mint 'MT' Talton, 15, District 7 - The Social  
**

'Wow, this food is super good!' I say enthusiastically. I shovel several spoons of supper in my mouth. Miller blinks behind his glasses and continues eating slowly.

The salad is made of beets, carrots, and black olives. I've never had olives before, black nor green. I'm not sure I like them: they have a funny, bitter taste that gives my tongue a queer feeling. But I've also never had a beet before, and I do like those.

'What kind of food do you eat in District Seven?' asks our escort, Rosaline, who I've come to loathe.

'Mostly vegetables,' I say perkily, with a full mouth. 'We don't eat meat much. It's hard to get.'

Rosaline frowns. 'But animals are gifts from the Lord, brought to feed us. And you live in the forest. There have to be lots of animals around.'

I shake my head. 'Illegal to eat 'em.'

Rosaline shrugs. 'How can they be illegal if they're gifts from the Lord?'

Miller speaks up, 'They're naturally occurring in my District. District Seven, of lumber. But they're not necessarily "gifts from the Lord".'

Rosaline shakes her head. 'It seems God has given me a challenge of dealing with two who do not believe in Him,' she sighs sadly. 'It has to be my fate to make you believe. Or something. Maybe you'll like to join me in prayer in my room? It's a really nice room.' She smiles perkily.

'That's okay,' I say. 'I'd rather watch the Reaping recaps.'

We dismiss ourselves before dessert and go to my room to talk before the recaps.

'She seems super nice, doesn't she?' I mutter.

Miller shakes his head. 'And I go to church, too. But I also believe in evolution.'

I nod. 'Makes sense. That's the same for my family, too. We go to church every other Sunday, but science comes first.'

I don't tell him we never went to church before the Reapings. The Dark Days left nothing but the church to hold onto for hope, for something, some great being, to save us.

When the Games came, there wasn't even any hope left. I've nearly forgotten what hope is. What is feels like. Am I even using the word properly?

What is hope?

**Hugh Ender, 16, District 2 - The Suicidal**

**Sleep.** That's what I want. I want to lie down and sleep forever. I don't want to wake up. But just as I close my eyes, a loud blamming on my door startles me into wakefulness.

'Bloody hell,' I mutter, getting up out of bed. I glance at the mantle clock. It's eleven thirty at night. I whip open the door to see Molly, my tiny district partner, standing there in a pair of striped pajamas.

She looks so like Azuela now, my stomach churns and I fear I'll retch. But I ask blearily: 'What?'

Molly pauses, gaze lowered, than she looks up and says plainly, but softly: 'I couldn't sleep. So I came to talk to you.'

This bashfulness, on her part, startles me: at the Reaping she seemed so bold and determined. But I say: 'Er.. All right.' I open the door wider and invite her in.

Molly sits on my bed. 'I'm not scared, though. Not much, anyhow. But I...I dunno. I just wanted to talk to you.'

In my head, something changes. I'm in my house. my old house, back home. Azuela has come to me in tears; she's had a nightmare. I sit on the bed next to my little sister and put my arms around her.

'It's okay, Azuela,' I tell her gently. 'Don't be afraid. I'm here for you.'

To my surprise, she pushes me away and looks up at me in confusion. 'What are you _doing_?' Azuela demands.

I jump back. We're on a train. What are we doing on a train? And...and I remember.

I blush. 'Sorry. You look a lot like my little sister, Azuela.'

I expect Molly to laugh or something, but instead she says gently: 'What happened?' It's like she's read my mind.

I decide to tell the truth. I want to get rid of all the pain I've kept bottled up inside me.

'It was in the Dark Days,' I begin. 'Some Peacekeepers shot our parents in the house at dinner, and they both died on the spot. Apparently, they'd mistaken us for a rebel family. Stupid Peacekeepers. But I grabbed Azuela and...I...'

Molly's eyes have gone very wide. 'You what, Hugh?'

'We ran. And they chased us. I took some rope and was going to climb a wall. I climbed up, and Azuela waited at the bottom. I'd tied the rope around her waist. I was going to pull her up, but the Peacekeepers caught us, and they shot her. I was almost at the top. And for some reason they left then. They didn't try to kill me. I went down to Azuela, but she was already gone...'

_**In The Capitol...**_

It will be three days until Haven and Aura arrive in District Eleven. They've caught a train, and paid for a suite room. There will be meals and there is a television where they watch the Reapings.

Faith is not chosen.

So maybe, just maybe, she will be safe. For these Games, anyhow.

'You know,' says the conductor when he comes to check their tickets, 'there aren't many who go to Eleven. Have you girls been there before?'

Haven opens her mouth, but Aura cuts her off. 'No, never.'

The conductor shakes his head. 'It's never easy the first time. There are slums everywhere you go. It's disgusting. And so many beggar children come and pull on your shirt with their grimy hands.'

Haven frowns, but Aura speaks again. 'We'll be okay.'

The conductor shakes his head. 'You don't what you're in for.'

* * *

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	16. The Chariot Rides - In All Its Glory

_**The Chariots: In All Its Glory**_

_**TIP: Read this while listening to 'Chariots of Fire', the effect is just brill!**_

* * *

_Now, the flames, they followed Joan of Arc  
_

_As she came riding through the dark_

_No moon to keep her armour bright..._

- from _Joan of Arc_ by Leonard Cohen

* * *

**Glint Jewels, 16, District 1 - The Reluctant  
**

**It** is early when the train, sleek and seemingly cunning, pulls into the Capitol. I'm already awake, eating the enormous pile of pancakes that awaits me, but Sue walks into the compartment, rubbing her green eyes sleepily.

'Are we there?' she mumbles.

I nod and stand, leaning out the window. Far as the eye can see, the Capitolites cheer for me, cheer for Sue. They laugh and cry and wave and blow us kisses and clap and scream. Shout out our names.

All this glory, the life I can lead. What will it be for? What will such a life be for?

I will have to kill. I am going to kill. I am going to take a knife and use it to kill innocent souls. I don't mean this to be maleficent. It's just truth. Just fate. It's life. I will have to take innocent lives to return home.

I might take Sue's. Sue, who has a little sister who needs her.

She ducks into her room to change. When she comes out again, I note her red flower earrings, her token. The train stops and our escort, Miranda.

'Omigod. This is so, so, super duper exciting! OMG! OMG!' Miranda squealed. She swung her hips as she exited the train, revealing her legs from under her short red dress.

We took a separate exit from her, ushered by one of the mute slaves. Sue and I are led to a large building with a private entrance labeled 'District One.'

Suddenly, a trio of young men grab at my arms. Sue yelps as a gaggle of young woman pounce at her.

'Glint!' she exclaims as we're dragged away from each other. She doesn't trust me, that I know. She's far too bright to trust me, but I'm the only link she has to home. And she also wants me here, despite the fact I could be the end of her.

The men introduce themselves as Cassius, Romano, and Apollo. They all sport ridiculously colored wigs in shades of blue and green and yellow that make my eyes sting.

It's mere instants before they strip me down, wash me, wax my legs and chest, and thrust a limp blue gown at me, telling me to wait for my...'stylist.'

My 'stylist' is a young woman who introduces herself as Calphurnia.

'I want you to _glow_,' she tells me, stroking her fingers over my cheek. 'I want you to be _golden_.'

I pull back. Mostly, I'm just confused. What the bloody hell does this have to do with the Hunger Games? Am I now in a fashion competition?

In the end, Calphurnia wrestles me into an elegant golden jumpsuit and gives me a fur shrug. She frowns. 'Something's not quite right,' she murmurs, but then Miranda reappears.

'Now!' she hisses.

Calphurnia cringes. 'Oh, no! But...he doesn't look right!'

Either way, Miranda yanks me into the hall and I catch sight of Sue. She seems to be in a rotten mood, scowling and arguing with her stylist.

But they brush her comments away like a pesky fly and escort us to a carriage. A pair of glorious white stallions sit, prepared to pull it. 'Well, get on,' sighs Miranda.

On either side, Sue and I slowly climb onto the chariot and sit. More tributes in ridiculously extravagant outfits gather, stylists fussing over slightly loose collars and uneven cuffs.

And the first chariot, our chariot, enters the light...

**Nicole Ratchet, 16, District 3 - The Sarcastic**

**No **way. There is no way on Earth I am doing this, in these clothes. I squirm in my seat on the chariot as the tributes from Two, the little girl and volunteer boy, move forwards. The light reflects off the helmet of the girl, I forget her name, and she turns slightly.

With her hair up like that, and in that dress, she looks like a warrior princess. I don't know why, but I admire this child. She locks eyes with me, before turning around again to face her certain executioners, Joan of Arc all the way.

Because surely, at her size, she doesn't stand a chance.

Now my chariot moves forward, and I, too, raise my chin to the future, another Joan of Arc who knows that she will die.

**Light 'Low' Harlow, 16, District 6 - The Protector**

**Just** before me, goes the little girl from District Five. I remember her name - Annabelle. She looks so terrified, her wide blue eyes filling with tears as her District partner, a boy not much older than herself.

My chariot will go soon. But just as District Five's rolls in, I spy another little girl watching me. It's the small, sweet girl from District Nine. Those wide, brown, curious eyes are fixed on me, as if fascinated. She's hidden behind another chariot, and I'm sure on;y I can see her from where I am. I flash her a smile just as my chariot, too, rolls forward.

The cheers are deafening. A screaming crowd, shouting out mine and Phin's names. Little Annabelle seems to have struck a soft spot, too, for every so often, her name can be heard above the bedlam.

Such a sweet girl, a sweet girl who everybody knows holds no chance.

There will be so many lives lost. These Games, and in the Games to come. So many lives, lost to the power that is the Capitol.

That is mankind.

**Miller Pratt, 18, District 7 - The Humble**

**No.**

I must be proud. I must be proud to represent my District. District Seven, the district of lumber. A district where there can always be a small haven, a sanctuary, no matter what the situation. No matter what the suffering, you can always find a place to escape to and rest wrong.

It is called the forest.

But how can I show my pride now? I am going to be dying soon, and I won't be in the name of my District.

I will not be a martyr. No, They are changing me and They will have me die in Their name.

They, the Capitol.

Next to me, Mint smiles and blows kisses to the audience. Is this an act? I can't tell. Is she pretending to be happy, or is she really?

Have They changed her already?

**Janice North, 14, District 10 - The Deaf**

**One** thing I know fer sure. Them Capitolites sure is screamin' loud. They're yellin' so loud, even I can hear 'em a little. District Twelve rolls right in there just as we join them other chariots at the front.

Few minutes goes by, where we waits fer Eleven and Twelve. When their chariot joins ours, President Snow gives some speech I woulda tuned out anyway if I coulda heard him.

After his speech, the tributes dismount the chariots, so I do too. I hop down easy as pie, but Sebastian trips and falls flat on his face as he gits down.

I hurry over to his side. 'Ya okay?' I ask him. I offer Sebastian my hand.

He takes it and I help him up.

'Ya okay? Ya ain't hurt?' I says.

'I'm okay,' he answers me.

I nod. 'Good. C'mon, I think Glitter's already leavin'.

* * *

**District Eleven  
**

Haven and Aura watch the broadcast of chariots on TV in the main square. The kids from her District, Aura doesn't know either of them, though the girl named Acacia is about her age.

'Come on, Haven,' Aura calls to her sister. 'Let's go find Faith.'

'I'm coming,' Haven says. She glances at the screen before hurrying on after Aura.

The girls ask about Faith at the main hall. The young bloke there says to them, 'I'm sorry. We don't have anybody registered here in Eleven by that name. When did you last see her?'

Something in Aura feels like it's going to die. 'Dark Days.'

The bloke looks at them sympathetically and places his hands over hers. 'I'm sorry, hon. She isn't here. Have you looked for her name at the cemetery? There's one for people under nineteen, as I'm sure you know. Have you looked there?'

Aura takes a step back. 'N-n-no. Why would I look there? I...I...'

The bloke adds, 'She could have emigrated to another District, of course. But the cemetery is a place you my want to look. Faith. That isn't a common name.'


	17. Trainind Day One - Formation of Allies

_**Training, Day One:The Formation of Allies  
**_

_**AN: If I'm wrong about the use of any weapons, please tell me. I do archery sometimes, but I've not touched a crossbow...**_

* * *

_I don't know where I am  
I don't know this place  
Don't recognize anybody  
Just the same old empty face_

_-_ from_ Just a Game _by Birdy

* * *

**Saalena 'Sal' Naii, 17, District 12 - The Manipulator  
**

**Words** fail me the instant I walk into the room. Everything is just too...too...well, I did say words failed me. I am speechless.

In the far end of the room, shelf upon shelf of weapons sit, glittering silver. Each one seems to speak to us, '_Well, go on, then. Take me if you can, or we'll take _your_ life.' _I try not to imagine this knife or that sword soaked in fresh, crimson blood.

Nets crisscross the ceiling and they snake up to it here and there, all with mats ready to cushion one's fall. There are hurdles. I see several rows of tables, some crammed with books and paints.

Paints? Have the Hunger Games become an arts-and-crafts class? You never know, after that parade last night. It was horrible, seeing the kids from the rich Districts in beautiful, glorious outfits, while Jack and I wore a saggy coal miner's getup.

I argued with my stylists over it until they just about had to yank me by the ears.

A young woman gives us a lecture about the rules of the arena, and how training will work, and how if we want to stay alive, we'll have to spend time at the medical, plants, and camouflage sections too.

Yeah, right.

I make a beeline for the weapons and watch as various tributes group up. The tributes from One separate, and the little girl from Two hovers uncertainly by her District partner. The kids from Three stick together, and the girl from Four yanks her partner over to the weapons area.

Mostly, the District partners stay together. I invite Jack to join me at the weapons, but he answers me with that goofy grin of his, 'Nope. Gotta get the better of those plants before they get the better of me!'

My eyes skirt over the various deadly arms. I won't bother with the heavy weapons - the war-hammers and maces. I try lifting a sword, noting the grace with which the little girl from Two holds hers, but it's surprisingly heavy.

I cast the child a glance. She's thirteen, I know, but she could be seven or eight. She can't be more that four feet tall. She's skinnier than me, and I come from the Seam. She's so tiny, with her twig arms and her enormous brown eyes.

And she can lift this bloody sword.

I experiment with a bow, but I can't pull the string back and wind up nearly taking the head trainer's eye out. Thanks to this, I don't bother with the crossbow. It must be similar.

I'm feeling uneasy now, but I take a knife in my hand and swing it back and forth.

Well, it's light.

It feels nice in my hand, the knife. To overuse the metaphor, the knife and me fit like a glove. Not that I've ever worn a glove, though I'd love to. It's become the height of fashion among the wealthy in Twelve.

I try throwing my knife at a target. Not quite a bull's eye, but pretty damn close. Fake blood spurts out of the mannequin's chest where I've stabbed it. I grin.

_Papa, it looks like I might be coming home after all..._

**Matthew 'Matt' Downe, 14, District 5 - The Optimist**

**Maybe...**maybe...this won't be as bad as it seems. Maybe it will turn out to be okay. They're teaching us things. They're teaching us of the weapons. How to use them. What plants to eat.

Maybe I'll be okay.

Annie and I are under some natural alliance. It's really perfect. Besides, she's so adorable I have to protect her. Little Annie. She's only two years younger than me, but so innocent and sweet.

Annie and I sit around the camouflage table, painting the instructor's hand. 'Atta girl. Very good. You've got yourself some skills there.'

Annie blushes under the man's praise. 'No, no, it's awful,' she mumbles.

I put a hand to her shoulder. 'They've come with food. I'll go make us some sandwiches, okay, Annie?'

Annie nods. 'Yes, Matt. Thank you!'

I make my way over to the table where I take some fat slices of white bread and begin to pile cheese and tomato slices on it. I catch sight of the girl from Six, Light, next to me, pouring drinks. The small girl from Nine, Ava, hovers near.

Light approaches the girl from Nine and they begin to converse. Are they allies?

I don't have time to dwell on this, because suddenly, I hear Annie bursting into tears. I spin, drop the half-made sandwiches, and race up to her. 'Annie!'

She sniffles loudly and wraps her arms around my neck. 'I'm really scared, Matt.'

I hold her tight. I'm reminded of the days Samantha held me, seven years ago, when our parents died.

'Don't cry,' I beg her. 'Don't cry.'

**Nigel Crawley, 18, District 4 - The Ally**

**Nobody **quite knows what to do or say when the little girl from Five bursts into tears on the spot.

Autumn watches her with something that is almost interest, her head cocked to one side. At last, as the waterworks display comes to a close, Autumn nods at the rack of weapons.

'Come on, Nigel. Let's fight this one out.'

I stare at her blankly. 'What?'

Autumn gives an irritated sigh. 'Ni_gel. _We're supposed to practice for the Hunger Games. Here, take this.' She thrusts a sword at me. I raise it, uncomfortable by its heaviness.

It's so bizarre to get into a sword-fight with your ex. I'm grateful when a trainer rushes over and splits us up.

'No fighting until the arena,' he admonishes. 'If you want to practice your fighting, ask one of us.'

Autumn shakes her head. 'No, I'll go eat.'

The trainers look at me and I shake my head too. 'Er, knot-tying.'

It's a stupid thing to say for somebody from District Four. I don't realize it until afterwards.

**Susan 'Sue' Maryfield, 15, District 1 - The Sister**

**I've **impressed the trainers with my spear. It's obvious by the way they stare at me with their mouths agape. They look like the fish I had for supper last night. We didn't often have fish at home; it all went to the Capitol from District Four. I'm not sure I like it, fish. If I win the Hunger Games, please leave a message at the tone and remind me not to move to Four. Thank you, and have a nice day.

Four is doing nicely this year. Their costume at the silly parade got them lots of attention. She was dressed up as a sea siren, he as a pirate. I've forgotten their names. There are so many names to remember, and why bother when all but one of us will die? It's ironic, really.

I've caught the attention of the bloke from Three. Some Asian boy, a few years older than I. He walks up to me and calls the name of his District partner. I remember _her_ name. Everyone does, after her performance at the Reaping.

Nicole, she's called. Nicole Ratchet.

The pair stride up to me, and I begin to feel a bit uneasy.

'You're quite good,' Three tells me, nodding.

I lower my spear. 'Thank you.' I glance at Nicole, but she says nothing.

After a moment, Three sticks out his hand. 'Enlai. That's Nicole.'

I shake it. 'Sue.'

Enlai pauses, then: 'I have a sister too.'

I freeze. 'Oh?'

Enlai nods. 'Yeah. Two of them. One is six, the other twenty-two.'

I laugh. 'Quite a range, then. Mine is ten.'

Nicole says, 'I have lots and lots of sisters too. I guess we all have family to return to. Blasted Capitol.'

I smile at her. 'You were quite the show at your Reaping.'

She smiles back. It's not cold, but genuine. 'Thanks.'

We sit together at the meal, and like that, we're allies.


	18. Training Day Two - Be Prepared

_**Training, Day Two: Be Prepared**_

* * *

_Children waiting for the day they feel good  
_

_Happy birthday, happy birthday_

_And I feel the way that every child should_

_Sit and listen, sit and listen..._

- from _Mad World_ by Gary Jules

* * *

**Light 'Low' Harlow, 16, District 6 - The Protector  
**

**Breakfast** is quail eggs and bacon, with a garnish made from a spice called anise. To drink, there is coffee and hot cacao. Phin and me dress in the dull uniform of the tributes - smoky black sleeveless shirt, shorts, with armbands stating our District numbers and last names. Hence, mine reads: 'Harlow' and '6' in big red printing.

We take the lift down to the main training room, and conversation ensues.

'So. Are we allying up?' I ask him.

Phin shrugs, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. 'Dunno. I think we'd fare well on our own. And you have Ava.'

It's true. Yesterday, I agreed to ally with the small girl from Nine. 'But...well, Phin, I don't want. I mean...'

'I'll tell you what, Low,' says Phin with a small smile. 'How about this: if one of us is in trouble, we seek out the other for help?' He asks me.

I nod as the lift dings, announcing that we've reached the ground floor of the Training Center. 'Agreed.'

**Acacia 'Casey' 'Cacia' Marks, 13, District 11 - The Loyal**

**It's** official. James and I are allies. We never say we are, never look at each other and say, 'We're allies!' but we both know. We stick by each other in training. James and I are allies.

I have an ally.

Lots of people do, some from their District, some not. James mostly sits about at the tables, reading, and I sit by him. But I'll often go and run the obstacle course, or watch some of the other tributes. I think I may use a knife. it isn't very heavy, and I can hit the targets with it eight of ten times. I can't even pick up the sword, unlike the girl my age from Two. I think her name is May. Or maybe Megan.

May-or-Megan is smaller than I, but bloody hell is she strong.

Other than when I'm running or watching the others, though, I study plants, knot-tying, and camouflage with James. He's a fair knot-tier, so he might be making our traps to catch food in the arena. We never caught or own food in Eleven. Even when we were starving, we dared not try; it was punishable by death.

If you were under eighteen, though, you received a brutal public whipping. Saige had one once, and the angry red welts marked her skin for months. She spent a fortnight after her whipping huddled in bed, crying. I had to collect all the homework for her.

'Try the Devil's Tongue,' I instruct James now, seated on the table and leaning over a thick book full of various ways to tie knots.

'Devil's Tongue?' he repeats.

'Do you remember it?' I ask nervously.

James nods. 'Yes...I remember it...' he takes the ropes in his thick hands and twists it into the knot. He holds it out for me to inspect. I pull at the rope. Tight. I compare it to the picture in the book. It's perfect.

I give him a thumbs-up, then make my way to the obstacle course. I tripped thrice yesterday, I need to try again.

Somebody is already there, though, so I have to wait in a queue. Actually, two somebody's. The girls from Nine and Six. I can't remember either of their names, but they seem to be helping each other out. Nine trips, and Six helps her up. Six gets her foot stuck in a hole, Nine pulls her up.

They must be allies, or planning to group together. I wait until they finish before starting. I approach the first hurdle and take a leap. My foot catches on the bottom of the bar and go sprawling. The trainer helps me up and resets the hurdle with a 'It's okay; try again.'

But it's not okay. Because, on the screen on the far wall, I see my odds drop.

**Ava Warren, 12, District 9 - The Curious**

**Low** came to talk to me yesterday.I thought I might ally with Ty, but he took off. Ty is nice, but he's a loner. Then Low approached me, and asked me quite out of the blue if she wanted us to be allies. I said okay, and there it was.

Now, Low and I have finished the obstacle course. The girl from Eleven begins She's about my age, I think not more than a year older than me.

We approach the fire-making center. I watch as the tributes there now - the kids from Three and the girl from One - must stomp out one that's gone wild.

Then it's our turn. 'Right, so, do either of you know how to make fires?' the trainer, a young man with a pale complexion, drones. He leans against one of the fake trees. 'Or do I have to show you?'

'No,' I chirp, 'but I really wanna learn!'

The trainer could win an award for boredom. He leans against the tree and sighs heavily. He points to a manual, hanging by a hook on the wall. 'Everything you need to know is there.' He states flatly.

I quickly grab the manual and sit, cross-legged on the floor. My eyes dart across the pages of instructions. Eventually, I set the manual down and look up at Low. 'Let's begin,' I tell her.

* * *

**_Author Note: Sorry so short! Next one will be longer, with an update from Haven and Aura!_**


	19. At the Graves: If I Die Young

_**At the Graves: **_

_**AN: Listened to Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone soundtrack while writing this one!**_

_**At the Graves: If I Die Young  
**_

_**Eh...this chapter is really more of an Aura-and-Haven chapter. Sorry to all those who want to see how those interviews went...no interviews in these games! And sorry it's...so...short!  
**_

* * *

_If I die young  
_

_Bury me in satin_

_Lay me down on a bed of roses_

_Sink me in the river_

_At dawn_

_Send me away with the words of a love song..._

- from _If I Die Young_ by The Band Perry

* * *

**District 11**

* * *

Aura can't come up with the courage to visit the cemetery. After the interviews, she tells herself. She'll go look after the interviews. They're to be released live tonight to all the Districts at seven o'clock at night.

She and Haven buy some supper from the marketplace. They eat it behind the old church, which looks like it still hasn't been replaced since it was destroyed. She and her sister get funny stares: they're clearly local girls, but they are dressed in nice clothes, after all. She catches sight of some children she knows from school but they don't recognize her. How could they?

To blend, Aura buys herself and Haven both two ragged dresses and bonnets in exchange for her own luxurious clothing. The woman at the shop thanks them both with tears in her eyes, and Aura remembers a time not long ago when she was desperate for a crumb or two.

In her dull gray rag of a dress, Aura feels oddly pleased. She grew up in rags, and is glad to wear them now. She catches a glimpse of herself in a piece of shattered glass and is delighted to discover that her face is smeared in soot. Now she and Haven blend in much better. It will be easy to watch the interviews in the main square without being noticed now.

'Aura,' asks Haven as she devours a meat patty. 'Aura, where are we going to sleep?'

Aura stands up and looks around the decrepit remains of the church.

'Here,' she says simply.

* * *

It's grown cold out. Surprising for July. Haven and Aura huddle close together for warmth in the square. Even most people here have at least a shawl to protect them from the cold.

The screen flashes with the Capitol seal, an explosion of bright white light. A host named Ernest Ramsey is interviewed. He's got all the charm and stupid smiles Aura has detected in the other Capitolites.

And she realizes she doesn't want to see these interviews.

'We're leaving,' she mutters to Haven, taking her sister's hand.

'Where are we going?' wails Haven, stumbling along behind her.

Aura breaks into a run. 'To make sure Faith isn't...there.'

'She isn't dead,' Haven states suddenly, stopping.

Aura swallows hard. 'We have to be sure.'

* * *

They enter the cemetery with a torch in hand, a new one that Aura has just bought. It isn't very good. but it'll do for tonight.

The beam of the torch skirts the many headstones that mark lives cut too soon.

'Are they arranged alphabetically?' asks Haven nervously.

Aura bends down on the ground to inspect one headstone. 'Adams,' she murmurs. She moves to the next one. 'Here's an Addams, with two D's. And here is an Afronto. I guess they are arranged alphabetically.'

Haven answers her sister through chattering teeth: 'W-well, we're B-Burrows. If Faith isn't there, then she's still alive.'

Aura shakes her head. 'It's all right. She won't be there. She's alive, Faith is alive, I just know it.'

Haven nods. ' 'Course.'

The girls make their way along the headstones. Haven spots the name of one of her classmates on those headstones.

**In loving memory of Jacqueline Ashley Banks, October 15 2047**** - June 3 2056**

'Oh, Aura,' Haven whispers. She pauses in front of the headstone. 'Oh, Aura, she's been dead for a whole entire year.' The nine year old bends down and runs her hand over the stone. There is a small, grainy photograph of the dead child, a bouquet of white flowers by Haven's knees. She sniffles and touches the flowers gingerly. 'She sat in front of me in class.'

Aura has never heard of Jacqueline Ashley Banks, Haven never mentioned her. She picks up the photo and inspects it by her torchlight. The girl in it looks younger than the nine years she had before she died. She's charming, really - with a head full of dark curls and bright eyes. The girl, Jaqueline, beams in her picture, revealing a missing front tooth.

Haven leans over her big sister's shoulder with tears in her eyes. 'That was in the first grade,' she murmurs.

Aura gives Haven's hand a squeeze. 'Come, let's look for Faith.'

'But we don't want to see her do we?'

'No, no we don't.'

The girls continue their trek through the graveyard. Beneath their feet, fallen leaves crunch and protest, not wanting to be trodden upon. They have died early deaths, as it is only July. Died early deaths not unlike the children buried in this cemetary.

The beam of the torch skirts over another stone. Aura approaches it, praying not to see a certain name. Her fingers trace the crevaces that the engravings there have left:

**In loving memory of Faith Burrows, Jaunray 16 2042 - July 6 2056**

Aura feels ill. As if something is eating her from the inside. Something inside her goes berserk, begins to scream, '_Nonononononononono!'_

Haven comes over. 'Aura? Is it her? It isn't her, is it?'

Aura does not answer. She only kneels there, clutching at her stomach. July 6th. One day after Mr. Jaime came to get them. Dear God.

She titls back her head and begins to scream. She screams for her mother, her father, Haven, screams for Faith.


	20. The Bloodbath - Blood of the Tribute

_**The Bloodbath: Blood of the Tribute**_

* * *

_**WARNING: the following chapter contains scenes of violence. (of course) In fact, the entire bloody thing is violent.**_

_**Disclaimer: The pedestal idea was inspired by the amazing Kate-the-Great-and-Powerful, also the creator if our very own Phineas! I got her permission to use it, so thanaks, Kate!**_

* * *

**Enlai Li, 18, District 3 - The Orphan**

**The **tube shuts itself around the pedestal I stand on. With wide, horrified eyes, I spin to look at my stylist. Her name is Ginevra, and I absolutely can't stand her. She's arrogant and bland. Now, she smiles and gives me a thumbs-up while sipping a glass of wine. I shake my head. Oh, God, I can't _stand_ her.

The pedestal begins to rise. I look up and squint as sunlight shines directly into my eyes. I fear I may go blind from the brightness of it, but my eyes recover.

_This is for you, Mai-Yee. With this, you will be well again. _

The first thing I notice is an immense golden horn, a cornucopia. It's such an immense structure, I feel as if it's some horrible creature come to get me. At the mouth of the cornucopia, sit an array of various weapons and survival supplies.

I look around the arena. It seems to be an enormous wheat field without a tree in sight. Around me, other tributes rise from the Earth. We form a circle around the Cornucopia, all facing it. Facing the weapons.

And it's then I realize.

They want to draw us in. A bloodbath, it's what they want. Dear God.

_If you do this, Enlai, Mai-Yee won't be sick any longer._

I catch sight of Nicole, but Sue is nowhere to be found. I can only pray neither of my allies will perish in this...monstrosity.

And then, the countdown begins.

**Light 'Low' Harlow, 16, District 6 - The Protector**

**It's **all on some huge clock, the countdown. Tick-tock, tick-tock.

59...58...57...56...55...

_Oh, help me._ I can see Ava, looking horrified three pedestals to my left. Tears streak her little cheeks.

49...48...47...

_Only one of you can make it out, Low._

44...43...42...41...40...39...

_Oh, shut up. _

35...34...33...32...31...30...

_The Capitol are sick bastards.  
_

27...26...25...24...23...

_I have to get some supplies. Not many, just a few. Enough to survive._

19...18...17...16...15...

_My God my God __my God__my God_ _my God_ _my God_ _my God_!

10...9...8...7...6...5...

___I'm going to die...we're all going to die..._

3...

___I can't do this._

2...

___You signed up for this, you have to be ready.  
_

1...

___Oh, help! It's going to happen now. _

'Ladies and gentlemen, let the very first annual Hunger Games begin!'_  
_

**Mint 'MT' Talton, 15, District 7 - The Social**

**Not **a soul moves. Everyone stays on their pedestals. Nobody wants to do this. Not even the impulsive girl from Four moves a muscle. There is only the wind, rustling the grass of the field.

_BANG! SPLAT!_

_Boom._

A scream emits from the girl from Twelve. She has leaped backwards from her pedestal and now sits on her bottom, whimpering in shock.

Her district partner, the irritating little boy, has just been blown to bits.

The girl from Twelve's pedestal explodes too. She stares at it from her spot, utterly horrified. Now there is panic. All the tributes stumble forwards, me included.

Yes, let the Hunger Games begin.

**Susan 'Sue' Maryfield, 15, District 1 - The Sister**

**The **action breaks out after the poor boy from Twelve dies. We all understand, understand fully: it was a warning.

I spot a spear and I dart forwards, my fingers closing around its comforting, cool, metal handle. I toss it in the air, catch it, before taking a blue backpack and swinging it over my shoulder. My eyes search around madly for Enlai and Nicole, but I can't find them.

_Where are you?_

A blond head and blue streak. Nicole! I go running towards her, but not before Glint pins her against the Cornucopia and presses a knife to her neck.

_Glint! Oh, no. _

'Geroff, you arse!' she snarls.

I'm surprised when my district partner does. He backs away from her and drops his knife before stumbling away, looking confused. The knife, meanwhile, lands, blade up, in the earth.

Nicole shakes her head. 'What was that?'

I, too, give my head a shake. 'Dunno.'

We spot Enlai and begin running, fast as our feet will carry us, away from the hell and screaming behind us.

_There. You see, Dryad, I've made it through that. I'll come home to you, I promise._

**Stitch 'Wev' Wevner, 18, District Eight - The Patient **

**I'm** trying not to move too quickly. Slow and steady wins the race, after all. My knife sits in my hand, it wasn't too far from my pedestal. I also found a white backpack, which I saw had a first-aid kit poking out of its overfilled body.

The knife that hits me in the back seems to come out of nowhere.

**Molly Grasses, 13, District 2 - The Determined**

**'No.'**

Hugh has pulled me into a secluded corner inside the great horn. He's currently sprawled on the grass by my feet. He tugs at my leg.

'Please, Molly.'

My heart is pounding. My eyes sting and prickle with the threat of tears. 'N-no. I c-can't. Please, Hugh. P-please.'

'It'll be quick,' he murmurs. He reaches for my sword and presses its tip against his chest. 'Molly.'

I shake my head. 'No. I can't. Not me, don't ask me.'

'Molly...' He strokes the blade of my sword. 'For me?'

I'll never forgive myself for what I do. I nod. 'Fine. I'm sorry.' I raise the sword and plunge it into his stomach.

I run before I can see his blood. But I think I may have seen a trace of a smile there before I killed him...

**Annabelle 'Annie' 'Belle' Greene, 12, District 5 - The Innocent**

**Never **before have I run this fast. I am gasping for breath, tears streak my cheeks. I just saw Matt die.

I just saw Matt _die_.

I'm running. I run run run run run run run...

My foot catches on a yellow backpack lying on the ground and i go tumbling to the ground with a wail. A sharp, searing pain explodes in my leg. My God, what _is_ this? I'm scared, I'm so scared...

I try to rise, but the pain in my leg makes it hard for me to think clearly as it worsens. I struggle, but it only gets worse and worse and worse.

I look and gasp.

A knife has been embedded into the ground, blade up, and its blade has dug into my leg. As I move, the blade twists and twists.

I writhe and struggle, but it only make it all hurt more and more. I don't want this.

A foot steps over me, then another. I reach wildly and cling onto the leg as my eyes well up with tears. 'Please help me.'

The tribute leans over. It's the girl from Four. She holds a knife, its edge stained in a deep crimson blood. She frowns, before nodding and whispering to me, 'Sorry, kid.' And she thrusts the knife into my chest.

And she is gone.

It doesn't hurt. Even the pain in my leg is fading. And in fact, so is everything else. It's...all...fading away...

**Sebastian Hozuki, 17, District 10 - The Klutz**

**Janice, **she got away. She escaped. I saw her run. I told her to. She read my lips and I told her to. She ain't gonna die, least not today.

Now I got them supplies and I'm running. Runnin' to that field where Janice got to.

And I trip.

I fall flat on my goddam face, too. That kills. But it don't kill as much as the knife that jams into my chest.

So I can't do nothing but lie there. Watch the blood spread over my shirt. I never even caught a goddamn glimpse of who killed me. I think it were the girl from Twelve, but I ain't sure.

I ain't sure o' much o ' anyfink right now...

**Acacia 'Casey' 'Cacia' Marks, 13, District 11 - The Loyal**

**I've **got no idea if James made it out or not. I took some supplies and ran fast as I could, away from the bloodbath.

Night has fallen, but there are no stars or moon in the arena. The bloodbath ended a few hours ago. James still hasn't found me, but he saw me. He saw which way I went.

Maybe he got held up. Maybe he went to look for food to bring. Maybe he got lost. Maybe -

Np. No, he isn't dead. Of course he isn't dead.

I know he's not.

I hear the Capitol anthem play. I raise my head as the seal flashes in the sky. I remember this; the escort told us something about it on the last day.

Every night, they'd announce the fallen.

And the faces begin to show, as well as the names and Districts.

* * *

Ender, Hugh - District 2

Greene, Annabelle - District 5

Downe, Matthew - District 5

Wevner, Stitch - District 8

Bright, Tyler - District 9

Hozuki, Sebastian - District 10

_Please. Just one more face, the face of that boy from Twelve. He died.  
_

My prayers are not answered. The boy from Twelve's face isn't the next to show. Instead, it's this:

Greggor, James - District 11

I don't stay conscious long enough to see the face of Jack Ostin, the last fallen one today brought.


End file.
